


Set Me Free

by jeffwing



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: 4 years later-ish, Annie and Jeff team up to solve a crime, F/M, Forensics Annie, Lawyer Jeff, Mild Language, Post-Greendale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25112515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeffwing/pseuds/jeffwing
Summary: Everything is going great for LAPD ballistics expert Annie Edison, until she's accused of tampering with evidence in a high-profile homicide case.She's innocent, but all the evidence seems to show otherwise. Losing all hope, she turns to her old friend, Jeff Winger, to represent her.
Relationships: Annie Edison/Jeff Winger
Comments: 132
Kudos: 187





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I know nothing about law enforcement or the justice system or forensics, so please forgive me if I've gotten anything wrong. Everything in this fic comes from my own research or TV.
> 
> Thanks to Bequeathment Sperm from the Discord server for giving me the idea. Another special thanks for skitzer1985, HareStomp, and ChildishGlover for all the help and support getting this out there.

Some days, as Annie types up her evidence report, damning a murderer to 19 to life, she imagines what it would be like if _she_ were the one arrested.

She’s sure she’d be a sniveling mess. Her silk blouse would be stained with tears, her voice cracking as she tried to explain her side of the story. Her hands would shake and the handsome, yet intimidating, detective would have to take pity on her.

Annie'd turn on the doe eyes. Her eyelashes would flutter and never really touch and the detective's face would soften. Everything would be okay. (Because, really, why would post-Greendale Annie Edison _ever_ get into trouble with the police?)

When Annie actually gets arrested, she surprises herself. She's dead silent. She sits with her arms tightly crossed, staring straight ahead. The detective asks her questions, voice reverberating off the plaster walls of the room, accusing her of things she'd never even dream of doing, and not a single tear forms. She glares at him, eyes like blue steel, and her first thought is of Jeff.

“I want my lawyer,” she says.

Later, when Annie calls Jeff on the phone, she lets the tears fall freely. She takes a deep breath and says the one thing she’s never said before, because she knows he’ll drop everything and come running. 

“Jeff, I need you.” 

* * *

When Annie arrived to work that morning in her crisp white blouse and too-expensive trousers, lab coat in hand, pushing through the heavy metal door of LAPD’s Forensic Science Division, she hadn’t expected that her day would end in a holding cell. 

But then she’d run into Gary DeLay, one of the lead detectives in the LAPD Homicide division, his mouth pressed firmly in a thin line, and she knew that whatever was coming next was not going to be easy.

Annie never really liked Gary. Her work had helped him crack numerous cases, under the pressure of an enormous time crunch, but he had always chosen her colleague Sandra to testify, allowing her to take credit of every single win. 

“Annie, we got a guy we think’ll break open the Fenwick case but we need a second opinion on the weapon. You mind stepping upstairs to sit in on the interview?” Gary asked.

Alarm bells should have gone off in Annie’s mind. It was rare that anyone from criminalistics was asked to visit homicide, not unless they were a witness, and Annie hadn’t seen any murderers lately. Or at all. But she _had_ handled their weapons and analyzed their bullets and recalled their serial numbers. 

So, instead of asking the important questions, Annie agreed to follow Gary upstairs. She preened, happy that Gary had asked her to give a second opinion and not Sandra Hayes. She couldn’t wait to see Sandra’s face when she told her later. 

As they waited for the elevator, Annie tried to calm her fluttery stomach, talking quickly to the detective who barely even looked at her. 

“Who are you interviewing and what kind of opinion do you need me for?” Annie asked. “The ballistics test revealed the bullet was an exact match to the mayor’s gun with 95% accuracy.” 

“I’ll fill you in later, our guy is waiting,” Gary said. “Come on.” He exited the elevator and walked speedily down the corridor, Annie barely keeping up at his heels.

There were some moments, as a 29 year old adult, that Annie still felt like a child. Gary had done a good job of making her feel that way. He’d talk down to her, make her feel inexperienced. Inferior. But as they passed through the cubicles of the other homicide detectives, she felt that there was something extra disdainful in his gait today.

Crap. She better know her stuff.

Annie reviewed what she knew about the case in her head.

An attorney, Ronald Fenwick, was shot for possessing a video of the mayor’s violent exchange with a reporter. The mayor claimed he didn’t shoot Fenwick, but Annie had tested his gun, and examined the bullet for hours. The bullet markings were exactly the same as the bullet found in the attorney’s body. It was simple. The mayor's gun was the one that shot Fenwick.

What else could Gary possibly need to “break open the case?” 

Annie’s shoulders tensed. She was always prepared, but she had no idea what to expect this time. 

The silence of the Robbery-Homicide division unsettled her. No one even looked up as Annie passed. Well. No one except Bill Gordon, one of the older detectives. Bill waved to her and offered her a small smile. It helped. Annie drew in a deep breath and let it go. She was going to be okay. Whatever the situation, she was good at her job. She'd be able to handle it.

Gary guided her into the back of the office, down a long dimly-lit hallway. He spoke to a security guard before nodding back at Annie and locking up his gun. Annie glanced at the guard. 

“I can just watch the live video,” Annie said. “I don't need to be in the room.”

Gary frowned. “No, Annie, I need you in there with me. Is that going to be a problem?”

Annie swallowed and forced a smile. “No problem. Whatever you need.” 

Gary led her to the back room, past the holding cell, to the interview room. The door creaked open as they entered. The room was empty besides the walls made of peeling plaster, covered halfway with speckled ecru tiles.

Gary took a seat first, plunking down heavily, his massive thighs covering the entire chair. He lifted a hand and gestured for Annie to sit down as well. Annie settled down beside him, heart palpitating in her chest. Where was the man they were supposed to be interviewing? 

Gary shifted, so his body was facing her completely. He was a relatively burly man, with narrow icy blue eyes and a strong, square jaw. If he tried, he could probably crush her with one hand. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. 

“You got any kids?” He asked. 

“No.”

“Hm. Boyfriend?”

“No,” Annie said again. 

It was technically true. Annie didn’t have time for dating. Her and Stefan happened by mistake. Casual drinks after work, then a drunken kiss. Before long, he was taking her out to dinner. She’d even gone on vacation with him and his family a few times. Then things got busy and Stefan didn't try hard enough to maintain the relationship. Annie broke it off, saying they both just didn’t have the time _._ Annie was busy too, and she didn't want to waste the hours she did have on a guy who wouldn't even look at her when his work came around. 

Being busy helped. Annie didn’t have time to question if she made the right choice, leaving Greendale and moving in with Abed and Troy in their five bedroom house outside of LA. She didn’t think about if she was really, truly happy or if she would ever achieve her holding hands in Disneyland fantasy. More importantly, it gave her barely any time to remember that she and Jeff didn’t really talk anymore. Not like they used to. 

Annie could distract herself during the day, shooting and testing guns, applying restoration agents to grinded serial numbers. But when she laid down for the night to finally get some rest, all the thoughts she'd been too busy to think about would rise to the surface.

Annie would stare at the dark ceiling, covers pulled tightly over her chest, wondering if Jeff felt anywhere as empty as she did, when they’d both achieved everything they’d ever dreamed of after Greendale. Jeff, the Denver defense lawyer and Annie, the LAPD ballistics expert. 

She tried to imagine what Jeff would say now, if he saw her sitting here, in this little interview room, fidgeting with her blouse sleeves, but she could barely even remember what his voice sounded like. 

God. She missed him. So much. And yet, she couldn’t find it in her to tell him so. 

“Sandra says you’ve been busy lately. Been rifling through the Fenwick evidence.”

Annie raised an eyebrow. “Sorry?”

Gary flashed her a cold smile. “I know you're an ambitious one. Sandra was going to take care of Fenwick’s bullet after the coroner’s, but you went right ahead with it.”

Annie frowned. “Yes, but not right away. I was working on the Carter case. Sandra would’ve had time to test them if she wanted.” 

“Didn’t Sandra tell you she was going to do it?”

“No, she didn’t,” Annie said, “Your partner came down and asked if we had the results yet. When I checked, the analysis wasn’t even done, so I did it myself.” She sighed, glancing at the clock. She didn’t come here to be interrogated. “Anyway, where’s that suspect you wanted my opinion on? I have to get back to work.”

“There is no suspect. We know you switched the bullets, Annie. Your name was in the evidence log two separate times.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb. We have your bank statements. We saw the payments from Fenwick.”

“I didn’t even know Fenwick!” 

“We found pictures of you on his Facebook.” Gary pulled out his phone, scrolling to a saved photo of her next to Stefan. “It's clear you two had some sort of connection.”

“This is ridiculous. I didn't-” Annie stopped. If Gary had real material evidence pointing to her guilt, everything she said could be used against her. Even if she was innocent. 

How dare Gary do this? Ask her up here like he’s trying to get some kind of expertise, exploit her naïveté and incessant need to help others to get her to interview. Annie clenched her hands into tight fists under the table. 

“Where were you last Friday night?” 

Annie glared at him. “I'm done talking. I want my lawyer.”

* * *

Getting to work on time is always a challenge for Jeff. Six years at Greendale Community College made him laid-back, complacent, and, somewhat, slow. (It’s not because he’s aged. It’s not.)

But a year in at his new firm and Jeff’s working his way to becoming the successful, charming, ambitious, and immaculately-dressed lawyer he used to be. At least on the surface. 

It’s too easy to get lost in his work, these days, surrounded by people he’s forged shallow connections with, talking about their cases and their wins like it's The Most Important Thing. 

It was the kind of talk that excited him before Greendale, when charming women and getting his client acquitted was enough of an ego boost. Now, the idea of small talk makes him want to grind his teeth together, shake the person he’s talking to until they change the subject to something _real._

And Pierce was right about ~~women~~ aging (which is something he'd never thought he'd say and never wants to say again). Now that he’s nearly 45, he’s looking for some place to hang his hat and not his underwear. Some days, Jeff’ll test out his luck at the bar, just to make sure he’s still got it. He’ll flirt with a Kristina, or a Taylor, or a Helena, who'll make it very obvious that she wants him to take her home, but he can’t bring himself to extend the invitation. 

So Jeff lets himself slide into a never ending cycle, wanting to connect with someone without the effort. Daydreaming of coming home to someone without asking anyone out. It’s not really his fault, he reminds himself. Every woman Jeff meets is either too phony or too jaded and not nearly as intelligent as the kind of person he imagines spending the rest of his life with. 

Too bad that kind of person is 1,000 miles away. And yeah. That’s enough of those thoughts for today.

At 10:30 AM, Jeff finally settles into his office chair, with a coffee, to read over a potential case file. He’s not even one sentence in before his cell phone vibrates with a call from an unknown number. 

Huh. It’s not an unusual occurrence for him to receive an unknown call, but a call from an unknown number in _Los Angeles_ definitely is. It makes his heart jerk in his chest as he considers the possibilities. It might be Abed. Or Troy. Or An...another person. He lets it ring twice before he answers.

“Hello?” 

There’s a sharp, uneven intake of breath before the voice says, “Jeff, I need you.”

Annie’s voice, tearful and strained, makes his stomach drop. 

“Annie?” Jeff asks, sitting up in his chair. “What's happening?”

“I’m in trouble,” she says, “Legal trouble. Can you represent me?”

Jeff swallows. “How bad are we talking?”

“Tampering with evidence.” Her voice quivers. “A felony charge. And a misdemeanor obstruction and theft.”

Jeff swears under his breath. That means hefty fines and up to 20 years in prison. That means high-profile. Jeff’s already trying to think of possible avenues for his defense. Lack of intent, mistake of fact, intoxication? No. Annie wouldn’t have been drunk handling evidence. 

He has a million questions. What happened, where was she, and how did Annie fuck up so badly? ~~And why hasn't he heard from her for months?~~ But Jeff tamps down on all of them to focus on the matter at hand.

“Okay,” he says slowly. “That’s bad.”

“I didn't do anything, Jeff. I would never, they’re just saying all these things-”

“I know,” Jeff says. “I know you wouldn't. We’ll figure this out.” And they will. He’s not going to let her down this time. “Don’t tell me anything else until we’re in person. They might be recording this. Where are you calling me from?”

“The police admin building on West First Street. I’m-” Annie's voice falters. Jeff can tell she’s desperately trying to keep it together. “They've already booked me, so they’re keeping me in a holding cell in the Robbery-Homicide division until you arrive.”

Jeff tries not to imagine Annie behind bars. Sure, LAPD Annie might be tough enough to handle herself, but she’s still the same Annie who’d panic over an A minus, let alone if she were arrested. She must be terrified.

“Give me a sec. I’m going to look up some flights,” Jeff says. 

Jeff quickly logs into his computer and starts scanning for tickets from Denver to LA. He frowns. Most of them are booked until next week. There is one for tomorrow open, though, at 7 AM. “It looks like I can’t get there until tomorrow morning. Are you sure you don’t want me to call a closer attorney? I know a few good ones in the area.”

“No,” Annie says. “I want you, Jeff. You’re the best there is. You’re the only one I can trust to get me out of this mess.”

It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before from all his other clients, but somehow, hearing it from her makes him feel cornered and jittery. He can’t let her down. 

Jeff clears his throat. “I’ll be there in the morning. Can you tough it out for a night?”

“Yeah,” Annie says.“I’ll be okay. We’ve done enough bottle episodes for me to be comfortable in a small room for a long period of time. ”

Jeff huffs a laugh. “This might be a little different, Annie.”

“Just a bit,” Annie says. He can hear the smile in her voice, which calms him down a fraction. “But no, really, Jeff. I’ll be fine.”

“Good,” Jeff says. “We’re going to figure this out. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll try my best, but you know me.” 

Well. Maybe he used to. Jeff's not so sure any more. He opens his mouth to respond, but he's interrupted by a gruff voice in the background telling Annie to wrap it up. 

“I’ve got to go. Would you tell Troy and Abed what happened, and that I’m not coming home?” Annie asks.

“Sure,” Jeff says. 

“And Jeff?”

“Yeah?"

“I know it took me getting arrested to say it. But. I’ve missed you.”

Jeff smiles. “I’ve missed you too." 

As soon as the call ends, Jeff clicks through his computer to book the flight to LA, heart racing. As he waits for the page to load, he tries to remember the last time he felt this alive. 

Years, he thinks. It's been years.

Well. Annie has always had that effect on him. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all my friends from the Discord server, Harestomp (Kian), Childish_Glover, Skitzer1985, AlmightyMirage (Mirage), Morganatique9 (Morganecdote), WowSoBoring (No Good B), Sally and JeffsWinger/Will, wannabe deanelchanger. You guys inspire me to keep creating every day. <3

The next morning, Annie wakes up with the worst stress headache that she’s had since high school. 

She barely slept the night before, pacing back and forth in her cell, repeating to herself over and over every word of her conversation with the detective. He was making a huge mistake. There was no way that Annie could have switched the bullets. And what was that about Stefan’s picture and the financial statements? 

Annie runs a hand over her face. She doesn't even know what time it is. Jeff could be arriving in a few hours or just a few minutes, for all she knew. The thought of him seeing her like this makes her feel a little light-headed.

It’s been awhile since they’ve seen each other. Troy’s 30th birthday, almost six months ago, was the last group gathering they’d had. Everyone had come. Shirley and her kids, Britta, Frankie, Chang, the Dean, Britta, Jeff, even Levar. There had been enough people (and chaos) to create a buffer between her and Jeff, to keep things light and friendly without letting things slide too quickly into dangerous territory.

Though Troy had suggested it, Annie hadn’t invited Stefan. Stefan was great, sure. A well-dressed, well-spoken, and handsome man, but the idea of Jeff meeting him at the party made her cringe. 

Annie had been sipping a margarita at the table with Jeff and Abed, discussing Abed’s new film idea, when Britta had dropped into the seat next to her and asked Annie if she was seeing anybody.

Annie went silent, the answer dying on her lips. It was too hard to form the words. To look at the face of the man she used to love and tell him she’s seeing someone else. Because if Annie was completely honest with herself, she’d never really been able to let Jeff go. 

It was why Stefan didn’t know anything about her, besides her troubles at work, her excitement for Disney movies, and her living situation with two old college friends. He didn’t know about the years of paintball, Vaughn or Rich, her pill addiction, or her deep, all-consuming feelings for a certain lawyer she just couldn’t seem to shake, no matter how many miles she put between them. 

“Kind of,” Annie had finally answered, staring down at the ground.

Britta had nudged her and said something about how she was proud of her, for keeping her romantic entanglements light and casual, before Abed interrupted to tell her that Annie’s relationship was indeed a romance arc, and not the friends with benefits trope Annie’s answer had implied.

Annie had snuck a peek at Jeff’s face, just to gauge his reaction, but he had his face turned away as if he hadn’t heard a thing. The topic changed quickly, but Jeff didn’t talk to her for the rest of the conversation. He didn't so much as look at her for the rest of the day. Jeff only met her eyes when they were saying goodbye, pulling her into his arms, saying, “It was good to see you,” his heart thumping heavily in her ear as she gripped him tightly. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, the goodbye feeling even more final than when she’d left for DC, four years ago. 

From there, they communicated sparsely, through group messages or polite “how are you's” before they stopped talking altogether. He never asked if she was still with Stefan. She never asked if he was seeing anyone else.

Annie had always imagined that the next time they’d see each other would be her own 30th birthday, where she’d blurt out that she was single, and they’d drift back into the same sort of tension they’d always had. Holding each other without touch, sharing eye contact without uttering a single word. Annie hadn’t imagined that the next time they’d see each other, Jeff would be bailing her from jail. 

Annie sighs and settles down on the bench, head in her hands.

“Your lawyer’s here,” a voice says, stirring her from her resting position. She looks up and sees a guard, keys jangling, unlocking her cell.

Annie perks up and gets to her feet. She feels nauseous, partly because she hasn't eaten and partly because she’s been daydreaming about the day she'd see Jeff again every day since things ended with Stefan. (Okay, so maybe she's daydreamed about it earlier than that, but no one really needs to know the truth.)

The guard leads Annie back down the hall to the interview room. Annie straightens her shirt and smoothes back her hair. It’s not her best look, but Jeff’s already seen the worst of her at Greendale. She has to let the imperfections go. 

Annie takes a deep breath and steps into the interview room. She spots Jeff sitting slouched in one of the metal chairs across the table. His suit is a little rumpled and it looks like he hasn’t shaved in a couple of days, but it doesn’t do a thing to hide the fact that Jeff Winger is still as handsome as ever. Jeff turns his head and meets Annie’s gaze, eyes widening when he spots her back. Annie’s stomach flutters.

Jeff rises to his feet and takes two long strides before he’s crushing her into a tight hug. She feels so safe with his arms wrapped around her, and it feels so good that Annie can feel tears pricking at her eyes. Jeff must feel the same, because when he takes a step back, he’s blinking a little too rapidly. 

Jeff grins at her, like he just can’t help himself, and something in his smile makes her feel dizzy and weak, like she’s just shaken herself from the deepest sleep. Jeff must notice, because he raises an eyebrow and looks her up and down. Annie panics for a second, because she’s afraid Jeff is going to comment on how awful she looks, but he just says, “Annie. Funny running into you here.”

“Yeah,” Annie says, playing along, “What brings you to LA, Jeff?”

“The usual,” Jeff shrugs, “A client got herself into some trouble and I’m here to save the day.”

Annie has to press her lips together to keep from smiling. “Think you can get her out of it?”

Jeff smirks at her. “Annie. When have I _ever_ had a problem getting a woman out of anything?” 

Annie huffs in exasperation. “Jeff! This isn’t a joke. Can you really get me out of this?”

Jeff must sense her frustration, because he loses the charming smile and ends up with a slight grimace. “Okay, listen,” he says. “The charges are pretty serious. I don’t know all the details, but a felony charge is going to take some major maneuvering to get out of.” 

Annie bites her lip. “But you can do it, right? That's the Winger guarantee.”

“Right,” Jeff says. “Since you’re not guilty, it makes things easier. All I need is a tiny grain of doubt that we can use to build our defense around.” He shoots Annie a smile, brimming with a confidence that makes it easy for her to believe that the court will drop the charges with a snap of Jeff’s fingers. “Once we find that, it’s game over. Until then, I’ll be working my sources, trying to find out some more information. Your arraignment is today and, depending on what you’ve got for me, I can get them to drop the bail.”

Annie nods. It’s strange, because it normally takes a little more convincing to get Jeff to actually do the work. At school, he’d pull out his phone, sweet talk some other people into doing the grunt work, and wing the rest when the time was right. Now, as Jeff looks at her, smiling calmly with a plan and explanation perfectly in place, she wonders what’s changed. Was it the Greedale effect? His job in Denver? Maybe a new girlfriend? 

Annie shakes the idea from her head. Thoughts like that are potential for disaster. If she allows herself to get distracted, she’ll never find a way out of this mess. For the sake of her life and career, she needs to put every old feeling in a metaphorical box and lock it away. Jeff in one box, the case in another. No matter how tempting it is, she has to keep things professional.

“So,” Jeff says, leaning back against the wall. “Tell me what we're dealing with.”

Annie presses her lips together. “Ronald Fenwick was an attorney who was working the case of a reporter, Sohan Matthews. Allegedly, the LA mayor had a fight with Matthews, who was going to leak evidence that the mayor was having an affair. The mayor cornered him in a parking garage and threatened him. Beat him. The reporter filed charges against the mayor but the only real evidence they had was the parking garage surveillance footage. And according to the attendant, it had been deleted. Or so they thought.” Annie pauses. “Are you following?”

Jeff nods. “So someone got to the footage beforehand.”

“We think,” Annie says. “There’s been rumors of a mole in the LAPD for years. Someone leaked the video to Matthew’s attorney, Ronald Fenwick. The mayor offered to settle the case out of court but Fenwick refused. Fenwick wanted to expose the mayor for the whole city to see. Then Fenwick was shot and the footage went missing.”

“That’s...complicated,” Jeff says, his eyebrows furrowed. “And you’re connected to this, how?”

“I was the one who tested the mayor’s gun to see if the bullet found in Fenwick’s body was a match.”

“What did you find?”

“It was an _exact_ match.” Annie frowns. “Maybe too exact. Detective DeLay accused me of switching the bullets because I was in the evidence log twice. The thing is, I've been running it over in my mind, and there's no way that I could've signed it out twice. I was too busy working on another case. As soon as I finished testing and reported my findings to Gary, the detective, he signed out the box of evidence to take to the task force room. Someone would have had to switch out the evidence _before_ I tested it.” 

“Okay, so maybe someone messed with the logs. Can we find proof of that? Is there surveillance in the evidence room?”

“No,” Annie says. “It’s too old school.” She purses her lips and runs everything over one more time in her mind. She knows that there’s no camera, but the evidence removal process requires _some_ physical identification. Annie grips Jeff’s arms suddenly. “Wait, Jeff. I've just thought of something.”

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense.”

Annie smiles, her eyes brightening. “I lost my ID three days ago.”

Jeff waves a dismissive hand. “Everyone misplaces things, Annie. Big deal. How does that help us?”

Annie is silent for a moment, not breaking eye-contact, her gaze steady as she stares back at Jeff. She feels breathless from her revelation, her stomach fluttering with the first hope she’s felt since she’d been arrested. She can't believe this didn't dawn on her earlier, when she was talking to the detective. 

“To sign out evidence, all you need is a valid ID,” Annie says slowly. “Someone must have used my ID to sign out the Fenwick evidence and switch the bullets. We just need to find out who.”

“That’s good, Annie,” Jeff says. “Really good.”

Annie beams. “That’s not all.” She’s practically bouncing on her toes as she continues. “I was working with a firearms specialist, Jane, on a case before the Fenwick one. She was with me the entire time, including the days that my ID went missing. If we could get her to testify, she could prove that I wasn't the one that signed out the evidence.”

Jeff grins and Annie remembers with vivid clarity why she’s stayed away from him for so many months. The pull he has on her is dangerous. 

“And there’s our grain of doubt.”

* * *

The arraignment went about as well for Annie as Jeff expected - which is to say, as well as it can go when you’re charged with a felony. Annie pleads not guilty and a preliminary hearing date is set for mid-June, which is two weeks away.

Jeff has a lot of work to do until then. At the very least, he manages to convince the judge to drop the bail payment and release Annie on her own recognizance. It’s not much, Jeff thinks, but it’s a start. A great start, actually, considering the way Annie beams at Jeff like he's given her the biggest gold star.

When they leave the courthouse and exit to the parking lot, Annie throws her arms around Jeff and hugs him tightly, whispering, “Thank you,” like he's just cured cancer or saved her life. 

Jeff’s a little confused, because this is the type of thing that any good lawyer would do for his client, but he’s not about to protest when her arms are wrapped around him and she smells like strawberry shampoo. 

When they break apart, Annie’s hands remain on Jeff’s suit jacket and it’s not intentional- at least not on his part- but they hold each other's gaze, standing still like they’re not quite sure what to do next.

It’s ridiculous, really, because he’s only been with Annie for a couple of hours. And yet, he can’t help but feel himself fall effortlessly back into old habits, hyper aware of every touch and softening at every doe-eyed, Little Mermaid request or suggestion.

The feeling is all too familiar. It’s one that Jeff’s conditioned himself to curb immediately, to push away into the depths of his mind that will never see the light of day. But it’s getting harder and harder now, especially since Abed had texted him a couple of months ago, saying it was the perfect time for Jeff to test out that old flame trope Abed was angling for in his movie. Which was essentially, in Abed-speak, telling him that Annie was single.

It’s moments like this, standing so close that he can feel her breathing, that Jeff seriously has to check himself, because he's never wanted anything more than to close the space between them and pull Annie in for a kiss. But a car pulls up next to them then, and the moment breaks. Annie pulls her hands away and Jeff turns around to see Troy rolling down the window.

“You guys coming?”

“Yes!” Annie answers, brightening at the sight of her housemate. She steps off the curb quickly and gets into the car, leaving Jeff alone on the sidewalk. 

Jeff swallows. If only Troy had come a minute later, then they would have-- would have what exactly? He sighs. Troy or no Troy, the outcome would have been the same. He and Annie have always had this tension between them, so palpable it’s bordering on excruciating. The stars never quite align to push them forward. Or maybe Jeff is just a giant coward that forgets he can speak words every time Annie grabs his arm or smiles at him like he’s just done something incredible. 

Before he’d arrived in LA, Jeff spent his time agonizing over what could have been. Now, as he spends more and more time with her, he’s agonizing over what could _be._ And that’s worse. Probably. 

Jeff glances over at the car, realizing he’s been standing outside for longer than is probably deemed acceptable. Annie rolls down the window and waggles her fingers at him in a way that’s so damn cute his brain stops working for a minute. 

Yup, Jeff thinks, this is _definitely_ worse. 

“Are you going to walk home or ride with us?” Annie asks.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jeff answers. He strides forward and swings the car door open, sliding smoothly into the cool leather of Troy’s car seats. The car is freezing, with the AC on full blast, but Jeff doesn't really mind, considering the prickly heat that’s spread through his body, making it impossible to think straight. 

Annie is sagged into the seat next to him, and it's only then that he notices the smeared make-up under her eyes, the way her hair is matted and tangled in the back of her head. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

Annie glances back at Jeff and smiles, but he knows she's just going through the motion. She’s kept it together all day, for the case, for Abed and Troy, and even him, but now she looks like she's about to fall to pieces any moment. Jeff has the sudden, overwhelming desire to pull her into his arms and just keep her there.

Annie nods and slumps against his shoulder. “I'm sorry for all this,” she murmurs. “I shouldn't have dumped this all on you. It's not--”

“Hey,” he says, wrapping an arm around her to squeeze her shoulder. “It's not your fault. We’ll get them to drop the charges.” He smiles to lighten the mood. “It _is_ my job, after all.”

The jest doesn't have the desired effect, because Annie doesn't smile. “Your job,” Annie echoes. “Right.”

Jeff opens his mouth to clarify, but Abed starts talking from the front seat and Annie lifts her head up off of Jeff’s shoulder to look out the window, like she doesn’t want Jeff to see her face.

“So how was it?” Abed asks. “Your first time getting arrested? Did they take you to jail? Was it like Prison Break, or Orange is the New Black? 

Annie groans. “They didn't take me to actual jail, Abed. I spent the night in a holding cell.”

Jeff can tell Abed is disappointed because he stops talking, but he has the decency to keep his expression neutral.

“So why’d you get arrested?” Troy asks. “Did you kill a dude?”

“What?” Annie asks, whipping her head around to face the front of the car. “No! Of course not.”

“Because you chloroformed that dude that one time and it seemed like you'd done that kind of thing before so I thought maybe-”

Jeff looks over at Annie and raises his eyebrows. He’ll have to ask about that one later when she’s in a better mood.

Annie shakes her head. “No, Troy,” she says. She sighs and shuts her eyes, letting her head fall back against the leather seats. “I didn't kill anyone. It’s complicated. Someone messed with the evidence I was working with.”

Abed brightens visibly in the front seat. “A dirty cop,” he says. “Someone set you up?”

“I don't know,” Annie says, glancing at Jeff. “I'm still figuring it all out.”

“So you called Jeff to help,” Abed says. He turns his head to look at the two of them. “Interesting. Very Castle. Or Bones. Or Blue Bloods. Or The Mentalist. Or X-Files-”

“Abed,” Jeff warns.

“Two people with a mutual attraction, united by a common mission that requires deep trust, who are unable to pursue a real relationship due to the professional nature of the mission.”

Jeff frowns. “I don't think that's--”

“It's not like that,” Annie blurts out. “I'm paying Jeff for the hours. For the purposes of my case, we’re keeping things strictly professional.” 

“Eddie Janko,” Abed says, pointing a finger at Annie. “Nice.” 

Jeff purses his lips, because he’d assumed he was here as a generous friend who just _happened_ to be a lawyer. Not the other way around.

It’s a stupid thing to think about, considering the state of Annie’s life right now, but Jeff was kind of hoping that working with Annie would miraculously erase the months of distance between them. Now, it seems to have only created more. 

Annie sneaks a quick glance at Jeff, clearly trying to gauge his reaction, and that pisses him off even more. Annie hadn’t said anything about paying him for his time _before_ he spent $200 and flew two hours to get here. She hadn’t mentioned that his visit would be purely professional and that she’d expect him to go right back home to Denver afterward, like nothing had even happened here. 

Fine. If Annie wanted to play it like that, Jeff could do that. He'd beat her at her own game and be the most indifferent lawyer the world had ever seen. Jeff was a goddamn professional. He could handle it. 

Jeff gives Annie a stiff, business-like nod. “Right. I’ll forward you my flight expense tomorrow,” he says. 

Annie nods and pinches her lips together. “Great.” 

The way she says it, all cold and polite, makes Jeff want to grab her by the shoulders and shake all the emotion back into her. But Jeff reminds himself that what Annie wants is a professional relationship, not a friendship or anything deeper, and that’s not something grabbing her by the shoulders will change.

So Jeff turns towards the window and stays silent for the rest of the ride home, ignoring the nagging feeling that Abed is watching him a little too closely in the rearview mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I was stuck writing so much of this, but I've managed to work through the writers block. Side note: Abed's referencing Eddie Janko from Blue Bloods. If you haven't seen the show, Eddie and her partner had to keep things "strictly professional" because they worked together.


	3. Chapter 3

Annie’s hand hovers over the door of Jeff’s temporary bedroom.

It's been four hours, Annie thinks, is that enough time for someone to settle in? Her and Jeff had talked about meeting tonight to brainstorm a list of people who had access to her ID, but Jeff hadn't even attempted to find her after they got home. She thought he needed a shower or a nap, and maybe something to eat, but four hours seemed a _ little _ excessive for all of that. 

At first, Annie’s annoyed, her chest tightening, mulling over the stress of the day and Jeff’s sudden avoidance. 

But then she thinks that maybe his avoidance  _ isn’t _ so sudden and maybe more than a little bit her fault. Annie slammed the door shut on any budding relationship between them by getting expenses involved. Paying Jeff for the hours set up a thick boundary, so Annie could avoid the distraction. 

Annie can't afford to lose focus. Not when 20 years of her life is at stake. And if the boundary  _ really _ bothered Jeff, he could’ve done the mature thing and brought it up. He could've knocked on her bedroom door or found her in the kitchen and asked her to talk, instead of childishly avoiding her half the day like she's got some kind of plague.

But then again, Annie could do the same. And she would be doing the same, if she can muster up the courage to knock on Jeff’s door. Annie sighs. She's being ridiculous. All she has to do is knock and they can get straight back to work and solve this thing once and for all.

She’s about to rap her knuckles against the door when it swings open. Annie gasps. 

“Are you just going to breathe down my door or did you actually have a question?” Jeff asks. 

Annie’s stomach twists at the sight of him. He’s changed out of his suit and into a light blue dress shirt that brings out the color of his eyes. Annie wonders who he’s trying to impress, dressed like that at this time of night, but she forces the thought from her head and clears her throat.

“I wanted to know,” she says, fidgeting with her pajama sleeves, “when should we get started on the ID list?”

“As soon as you have it for me would be great.”

“You don’t want to walk through it together?”

Jeff looks at her like she has three heads. “It's just a list of names, isn't it? What's there to walk through?”

“Well, knowing who they are and what they do could be helpful.”

Jeff waves her off. “Oh, don't worry about that. I have an informant. I have access to everything I need.”

“Okay,” Annie says, frowning. 

“Actually,” he says. “There's something else I wanted to ask you. You told me everything about the case, right? No evidence they have that I don't know about?”

“Well, they did mention something about my finances. And that there was a picture of me on Fenwick’s Facebook page. But that's all I can think of.”

Jeff smiles, but it seems a little forced. “That's helpful to know moving forward. Could you also send me a copy of your bank statements for the past year or two? I'll have someone look it over.”

“Sure,” Annie says. 

“Great.”

“So that's all?” Annie asks. “That's all you wanted to ask me?”

Jeff opens his mouth to respond, but he’s interrupted by the sound of his phone buzzing. He shoots her an apologetic look and answers it. “Hello? Yes. I'll be right there. Give me ten minutes. Fine. Okay, bye.” Jeff hangs up the phone and tucks it back into his pocket. “I've got to go, I've got a meeting with the informant.”

Annie blinks in confusion. “And you didn’t bother to tell me?”

Jeff shrugs and averts his eyes. “You don't need to be there. You're the client. I'll report back to you with anything relevant, but you don't need to get your hands dirty with all of this. That's my job.”

Annie clenches her teeth, trying to rein in the anger that’s flushing through her body. “Well, maybe I  _ want _ to be there, Jeff. This is  _ my _ life.  _ My _ case. You can't just cut me out.”

Jeff sighs, his voice carefully controlled when he says, “You’re being a little dramatic, Annie. One meeting isn't cutting you out.”

Annie narrows her eyes, lip curling. “Don’t patronize me.” 

“I’m not. But don’t you think you’re overreacting? My other clients are perfectly happy to let me do all the hard stuff,” Jeff says. He crosses his arms over his chest. “It  _ is _ what they pay me for.”

Oh, Annie thinks, haughtily. So that's what this is about. She draws in a deep breath and sets her shoulders back, pinning Jeff with a steely gaze. “Is this because of what I said in the car?” She asks. “About staying professional?” 

Jeff eyes dart away and then back again, and that's all Annie needs to confirm the answer to her question. There's a pounding in her ears as she clenches her fists, preparing to fight whatever retort is coming next, but Jeff says nothing. His gaze drops to the ground, the silence stretching huge and gigantic between them. 

“Forget it,” Annie snaps. She spins on a heel and storms out of the room. The childish part of her secretly hopes Jeff’ll follow after her out, but the reality is that he won't. He’ll go to dinner with that sexy red-haired detective, who’ll he’ll charm the information out of over a bottle of Cabernet and some tapas. Come home late to tell Annie only what she  _ needs _ to know, and not the part where he'd followed the woman back to her bedroom.

Okay, so maybe she’s overreacting a little, about who the informant is, but she's still disappointed about how things went down in Jeff’s bedroom. Jeff was the one who had insisted helping her was  _ his job _ , so he had no right to be upset about her wanting to keep things professional. 

And if he did, he should've said something earlier! Not clam up and be all passive aggressive. She's a fool for even  _ considering _ that Jeff’s changed in the years that have flown by, that maybe he'd be a little more communicative and mature about his feelings now.

As Annie storms away, she’s seriously considering doing what Jeff wants and dropping the casework altogether. If he wants to do the dirty work, then fine. He can do it all. She’ll sit at the kitchen table with Troy and Abed drinking wine and watching TV, while he types away on his phone and drowns in paperwork.

But by the time Annie gets to her bedroom door, the control-freak inside of her is already telling her that she needs to stop messing around and focus on the details. She has to figure out who stole her ID and how the hell Ronald Fenwick got connected to her financials.

Annie slams the door to her bedroom and marches straight to her desk to get to work. She pulls out her purple notebooks and a black gel pen. There are very few people who have access to the forensics lab. Even fewer are the people that frequent her workstation. ID cards had to be used to enter and exit, and Annie wasn’t one to leave hers behind. Annie writes out a bullet pointed list, carefully scrawled in her best handwriting.

  * Stefan Geffner
  * Detective DeLay (Gary)
  * Sandra Hayes
  * Jane Wu
  * Cooper Martinez
  * Terry DeLuca
  * Bill Gordon
  * William Mona
  * Lisa Wong
  * Roy Scott



Annie rises from her desk and perches herself on the end of her bed, staring at her wall and tries to think. Her head is pounding. Half of her list is made up of detectives and the other half forensics specialists. She couldn’t see any one of them being so malicious, going out of their way to target her specifically. 

“Are you okay?” Troy asks. 

Annie jerks her head up. She’d been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t heard Troy open the door. Annie realizes how strange she must look, just staring into space at a blank wall.

She manages a small smile. “I’m fine.”

Troy cocks his head, like he’s not quite believing her. “Me and Abed made extra mac & cheese if you want some.” His eyes light up. “And Jeff brought us no-no juice...”

“I'd love to,” Annie says, she gestures to the desk, “but I can't afford to lose focus. I have a ton of work to do for this case…”

“Come on,” Troy says. “The court date is in, like, two weeks, right? You can relax for a night.”   


Annie’s shoulders slump. She hasn’t started on anything concrete yet, nothing that will get her any closer to where she needs to be. But the pain behind her eyelids hasn’t gone away all day and she just doesn’t have the energy to do any more research. Maybe a break could do her some good. 

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll come. But only for  _ one  _ glass of no-no juice.”

* * *

It’s a Thursday night, which means the bar is packed when Jeff arrives. He’s been in such a horrible mood all day, so he makes a beeline for the bar. There’s no way he can sit through a thirty minute conversation with someone he hasn’t seen in years, without a little alcohol coursing through his system. As Jeff waits for his Scotch, he scans the booths and tables, trying to spot his informant. Nothing. 

Jeff pulls out his phone. 

_ Had to run to the restroom. Grab a drink and I'll meet you at the bar. -BG _

Jeff sighs and swipes up on the message to unlock his phone. He scrolls through his inbox, trying to distract himself, but Annie’s name is staring up at him, bright and glaring. Jeff grimaces, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Jeff wants to type out an apology, something that explains why he’s scheduled this meeting without her, but he can’t seem to find the words.

The bartender slides his Scotch across the bar and he lifts it to his lips. Jeff briefly closes his eyes, as the smoky flavor hits the back of the throat. It certainly helps take some of the edge off. He’ll just type out a quick message and talk to Annie later. Something simple like:  _ We need to talk, I think there's been a misunderstanding.  _ But he can't click send, because he’s thinking that it’s altogether too sentimental and not something he would send to an ordinary client.

What the fuck is going on with him, Jeff thinks. Send it or don’t send it, who gives a crap. There are more important things to focus on right now. He needs to stop agonizing over every little thing and do his fucking job. 

Jeff tosses back the rest of the Scotch, just as Bill Gordan, homicide detective and old friend, drops into the stool next to him. 

“Rough day?” Bill asks.

“Something like that,” Jeff mutters. He waves the bartender over for another Scotch. “It’s good to see you, Bill.”

“You too. Nice of you to finally drop by my neck of the woods. Been awhile.”

Jeff forces a smile. “It's easy to lose track of the years when you're re-doing your degree at a community college.”

Bill laughs, deep and throaty, and pats Jeff on the arm. “It seems to have only done you good, Jeff.” He smiles. “Anyway, what brings you to LA? Anything I can do for you?”

Jeff appreciates that he cuts right past the crap and focuses on the task at hand. He’s always liked that about Bill. He’s a sharp, no-nonsense kind of detective, with a dry humor that Jeff had come to appreciate since they were first introduced. Bill knew Jeff in his early lawyer days, the two of them crossing paths frequently in the courtroom. Bill was a Greendale alum himself, which made Jeff already like him, and, when Jeff was a professor, he’d come down to Jeff’s class and be guest lecturer for the day, which made Jeff like him even more. Well, at least until Bill got a job in the big leagues, with the LAPD.

Jeff nods. “I have a client you might know. Annie Edison. I'm just trying to get more insight on the case. Anything you know about it from the inside, before I talk to the DA.”

Bill brightens. “Annie? The ballistics girl? She's great.” He shakes his head. “It’s a shame what happened to her.”

“She was framed, Bill. Someone used her ID to swap the evidence.”

Bill frowns. “Jeff, as a friend, I can tell you that isn't true. DeLay has her financials. She has two significant payments from Fenwick right after he settled two major cases. She’s the LAPD mole we’ve been looking for.”

“What do you mean?”

“Fenwick has been able to win his cases because of all the damning evidence he has. He’s obtained evidence from crime scenes that even the LAPD doesn’t have. Fenwick clearly had someone on the inside, weaseling evidence from crime scenes for his personal collection. In this case, he had the Mayor’s footage. It’s obvious Annie swiped it before it was documented, and sold it to Fenwick.”

“Bill. I know Annie. She wouldn’t do this.”

Bill purses his lips. “Look, Jeff. I know you want to believe your clients. You have to. But don’t get yourself too personally entangled in someone else’s mess. The stuff we have on her is more than enough for probable cause. You’re better off negotiating for a plea deal and having her sentence reduced.”

Jeff narrows his eyes. “And what? Have an innocent woman spend a couple of years in jail? Take away her ability to ever get another job?”

Bill raises his eyebrows. “Since when did you care about that?”

Jeff frowns. “Annie’s a good friend. I owe it to her to get her out of this.”

Bill presses his lips together. “I’m not sure of how good of a friend she is, considering that she’s lying to you.” He speaks in a slow, placating voice that pisses Jeff off. “She’s all over Fenwick’s Facebook, Jeff. Pretty buddy-buddy with his family and his wife. It's obvious what’s been going on. Annie steals, Fenwick pays her.”

“Annie didn't mention to me that she knew Fenwick.”

“Of course she didn't. The girl’s a pathological liar. Acts all sweet and hard working while all the while-”

Jeff tightens his fingers around his Scotch glass. “She's not a liar.” He grits out. “Annie would never do something like this.”

“Huh,” Bill says, squinting at Jeff. “You don't just know her, do you? You  _ like _ her.” 

Jeff looks away. He needs to focus and not let his feelings get in the way. Just come here to do what you need to do, Jeff thinks. He sighs. “You think you could look into more of the details for me? See what else they've got on her?”

Bill brow softens. He lowers his voice, “On the down low, yes. But I can't be your witness in court. I'll lose my credibility. DeLay will burn me on a stake.”

Jeff nods. “Understood. Thanks, Bill.”

“Sure thing.” Bill smiles. “And I'm sorry if I offended you, Jeff, talking about her the way I did. Annie’s a great woman. I'd love for her to be innocent. Really. But the evidence tells a different story. And in my job, you can never be so sure of anything.”

Jeff smiles pleasantly. “Sure.”

Bill nods and drains the rest of his glass. “Just be careful, alright? It’s too easy to get wrapped up in your feelings with a case like this. I don’t want you to be blinded by your ambitions and then lose the case for her. My advice? Get her the plea deal.”

“Thanks,” Jeff says and rises to stand. “But I’ve got it covered.” 

Bill nods and doesn’t say much else, so Jeff slings back the rest of his Scotch, slams a twenty on the bar and heads outside to make his way back to Annie’s. 

Outside is stifling, dark, and way too hot for early June, but in the silence of the parking lot, Jeff already feels a thousand times better. 

* * *

It turns out that the wine that Jeff brought is delicious, so Annie ends up having not one glass, but three. 

She’s red-faced and giddy, a slow, dizzy warmth building in her stomach with the more time that passes. Troy has yet to turn on the AC, claiming it’s too early in the season, so they use little paper fans Annie folds from her notebook paper. It’s useless. Her hair is sticking grossly to her scalp and the back of her shirt feels a little too damp. 

“I’m hot,” Annie complains. 

“Me too,” Troy says, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. He perks up, with a sudden burst of inspiration and grins at Annie. “Let’s go swimming.”

Annie has a vision of putting on a bathing suit and diving into the cool pool water in the dark. It sounds like instant relief. She jumps up off the couch. “Let’s do it.” 

The three of them race to their respective rooms to put their bathing suits on and meet back at the pool. Annie choses a red bikini, the one she took with her to the resort with Stefan, the one that stunned him into silence, made him gravitate towards her all weekend. 

She has a fantasy of Jeff returning from his dinner, seeing her emerge from the pool, hair dripping wet, moonlight illuminating her pale skin. His mouth will part, just slightly, eyes dropping to the way her bathing suit clings to her body. He’ll say something teasing and she’ll put a hand on his arm, teasing him back, before he’s yanking her in for a kiss and she’s dripping pool water all over his shirt and-

Annie swallows. No, no, no. Those are unproductive thoughts. Unhealthy thoughts. Drunk, irresponsible thoughts that she needs to get out of her mind immediately. She shakes her head and starts towards the stairs, towel in hand, just as she hears a car door slam somewhere from outside. 

She wobbles down the stairs, rounding the corner past the front entrance, just as Jeff bursts in through the front door. Annie stops walking.

“Hey,” Annie says, “You’re back.”

Jeff freezes. “Jesus, Annie, you scared the crap out of me.” 

“Well, I learned a thing or two about sneaking around, you know, being a wanted felon and all,” Annie says, smiling cheekily.

Jeff doesn’t answer immediately, so Annie steps closer, to see his face in the dim lighting. Something in his expression strikes her as familiar, she’s seen it before (when she kissed him for the very first time outside the Tranny Dance, all consequences be damned). It’s a  _ moment.  _ The kind of moment they have all the time. 

And maybe she’s reading into it, like Jeff had accused her of, making a big deal of the “Annie of it all.” But there’s no mistaking the way Jeff’s eyes rake over her from head to toe, in a slow deliberate way that makes her skin feel tingly and hot.

Annie can feel a warm blush starting to burn her cheeks, but the wine has made her brave and reckless, so she steps even closer to him, her chin tilted slightly upwards, and her shoulders back. “My eyes are up here, Jeff.”

Jeff startles, his gaze dropping immediately to the floor. He clears his throat. “You’re going swimming?”

“Yeah, want to join us?”

“I can’t. I don’t think-”

“Come on,” Annie says, and she knows she’s playing dangerously close to the line, but she’s in his personal space now and all she needs to do is touch. She puts a hand on his arm. “It’ll be fun.”   


Jeff swallows. “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“Borrow Troy’s.”

“I don’t-” Jeff starts. “I haven’t-” He sighs, frustrated. “We need to talk first. Can we talk?”

Annie frowns and releases Jeff’s arm. “Did something happen? With the case?”

“No,” Jeff says. “This isn’t about the case. I just wanted to talk about earlier. With what happened in the bedroom.” He shuts his eyes for a moment. 

Annie nods, urging him to continue. 

“I don’t apologize often. But…” He presses his lips together, a pained expression on his face. 

“You’re sorry?” Annie supplies.

Jeff nods. “Yeah. I felt bad about keeping you in the dark. It won’t happen again.”

Annie looks down at the ground, face hot. She doesn’t know what to say, because now that the hours have passed, she’s embarrassed about her outburst. She was foolish for getting upset over the whole thing. In Jeff’s perspective, he was only maintaining the boundaries that Annie had instituted in the first place. 

“And I was thinking about what you said before,” Jeff continues, and she still can’t bring herself to look at him. “About a professional relationship. And I don’t think I can do that.” 

The words startle Annie and she meets his eyes. They’re foraying into dangerous territory now and there’s an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. Jeff’s three words away from acknowledging the heavy history between them and Annie doesn’t know if she can bear it, not when she’s wearing a swimsuit and she might be going to jail, and isn’t she supposed to be mad at him?

“I came here as a friend, with the intention of helping out another friend. Can’t we just leave it at that?” Jeff asks. “You don’t need to pay me or treat this like some sort of business exchange. I’m just here to help.” He’s watching her with a strangely open expression.

Annie’s stomach drops in simultaneous relief and anguish. Jeff hadn’t said the words she was ~~wanting~~ expecting to hear. But it’s something. As close as they’ll come to discussing things. For now. 

Her face softens. “Of course we can,” Annie says. “We were always friends, Jeff. I just didn't want Abed to get the wrong idea that us working together was more than it is.” She shakes her head. “I can't afford that kind of distraction right now and even if I could I-”

“Yeah, I get it.” Jeff says, flatly.

Annie frowns. She hopes she's communicated enough signals for Jeff to understand that she's not saying no to the possibilities. She’s just saying not yet. She tries to read Jeff’s expression but his face is annoyingly blank. 

“We make a good team,” Annie says. “We always have. So let’s do it again this time.” She smiles, trying to lighten the mood. “With higher stakes.”

“Yeah,” Jeff shrugs. “Easy.”

“So...resolved, then?” 

After a moment, Jeff nods, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile. “Resolved.”

They hold each other’s gaze and the heated eye contact makes Annie’s blood feel all warm and fizzy. She wants to take a step closer, rise on her tiptoes and pull Jeff to her, until their lips are clashing together in a soft, warm kiss. 

But the goal here is to get everything safely back to the friend zone, where Annie can make enough room in her brain to figure out what’s going to happen next in her life. And that can't happen if she keeps fantasizing about how good it might feel to have Jeff’s hands all over her again.

There’s the faint sound of a backdoor sliding open from somewhere in the background, but Annie isn’t really paying attention. 

“Annie? Are you coming?” Troy shouts from the back of the house.

“Yes! I'm just talking to Jeff. I'll be out in a minute.” Annie calls back.

“What?"

Annie rolls her eyes. “I said I'll be out in a minute!”

Jeff raises an eyebrow at her. “You think Troy’s swim trunks will fit me?”

Annie grins. “There's only one way to find out.”

* * *

Troy’s swim shorts turn out to be a little too snug in the thighs and come up just above his knees, but Jeff wears them anyway. He passed being insecure about wearing shorts  _ years _ ago. It’s fitting, he thinks, as he walks out onto the patio, that wearing shorts is probably the  _ only _ way Greendale prepared him for an event in the rest of his life.

Night has plunged the patio into darkness, but the pool is illuminated by lights that embellish the water with a golden glow. Annie, Abed and Troy are talking in the shallow end, Annie giggling as Abed and Troy act out different pool scene tropes, climbing the steps slowly, enacting a sexy slow-mo pool emerging scene. 

Jeff approaches the pool cautiously, grimacing, because the too-tight shorts chafe when he walks. He’s starting to regret agreeing to go swimming, but he’s doing it for the sake of friendship. And because he needs to prove to himself that he’s perfectly fine with spending time with Annie, chatting, catching up like old friends. Now, though, seeing her laugh, her head tipped back adorably, he’s not so sure. 

Annie stops laughing as he approaches the edge of the pool, her gaze sliding down his chest, cheeks reddening when Jeff catches her looking. The heat in her stare fades quickly into embarrassment the longer he watches her. She’s beautiful. The pool light reflecting off of her damp brown hair, the way her bikini clings to the slope of her breast, the curve of her hips, it’s all so tempting to take a few steps, invade her space, and inhale the fruity scent of her skin. 

Fuck. 

“And now the real show begins,” Abed says. 

Jeff steps into the water, up to his ankles, his body shuddering at the sudden chill, but he keeps pushing forward, until his lower half is completely submerged. The water’s not exactly warm, but it’s much better that no one sees what’s going on below the surface right now.

Jeff stands between Troy and Abed, keeping himself a respectable distance from Annie. The physical distance will help. If he’s not around her, he’s less likely to think about how desperately he wants her. Jeff’s already got this case and the little nagging feeling that Annie might be hiding something to stress about, so it’s not like his plate isn’t full.

But that distance lasts about two seconds, because Troy and Abed are overgrown children who like to play  _ games  _ in the pool, instead of lounging around like normal adults. 

“We’ve never had four people in the pool before,” Troy says to Abed. “Do you know what that means?” 

Abed tilts his head. “Chicken fight?”

“Get out of my brain,” Troy says. 

“Annie, you get on Jeff’s shoulders. Troy will get on mine.”

Annie hesitates. “Are you sure that’s not dangerous?” She asks. “Troy won’t crush you?”

“Don’t worry,” Troy says. “Me and Abed do this all the time.”

“Yeah, that’s not weird at all,” Jeff mutters. His stomach is turning in uncomfortable knots. Annie on his shoulders is a little too close for what he’s comfortable with right now. “I’m not playing.”

But Annie drifts closer to him and smiles, eyelashes fluttering in the way he’s learned to simultaneously love and hate, and she shrugs. “Come on, Jeff. It could be fun.”

Jeff sighs. God, he hates that look. “Okay,” he says. “Fine.” 

Annie squeals and bounces on her toes, sending small waves of water in his direction. Jeff presses his lips together to hide his smile and does his best to look exasperated. 

The four of them move closer to the decline in the pool, where Abed counts to three and Jeff and Abed dunk underwater, allowing Troy and Annie to clamber on their shoulders. 

Jeff rises from the water holding Annie by the knees. Her legs feel so soft around his shoulders, and she cards her fingers gently through his hair while she waits for Troy to orient himself on top of Abed.   


“Have you gotten taller?” Troy asks Abed. 

“No,” Abed says. “I’ve learned how to balance on my tiptoes, in case something like this ever came up and I needed to grow a few inches.”

“That’s… awesome!” Troy says.

Annie shifts on Jeff’s shoulders. Jeff gulps. He feels like he can’t breathe. “Are you guys ready?”

“Oh yeah,” Troy says. “We’re ready.”

Jeff steps closer to Abed, so that Annie and Troy are in arms-length of each other. 

“I’ll count us off,” Abed says. “3…2…1...Go!”

Jeff plants his feet on the floor and pushes Annie forward. Annie extends her arms to meet Troy’s to try and wrestle him into the pool. She’s breathing heavy, pushing herself into the top of Jeff’s head, wrenching her body left and right. Jeff tries his best to keep them balanced, but he’s a little distracted, and he can feel her body shifting slightly too much to the left. 

“Annie,” he says. She doesn’t hear him. “Annie.” He tries again, louder.

“What?” she says, through gritted teeth. “Can’t you see I’m kind of in the middle of something?”

“Tickle him.” Jeff hisses. “You’re losing. I can feel you sliding off my shoulders.”

“I can’t do that! That’s cheating!”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Are you playing to follow the rules or are you playing to win?”

Annie drops her arms suddenly and reaches for Troy’s stomach, dragging her fingers slowly up and down his chest. Troy squirms on Abed’s shoulders. “Hey! Stop that!”

Unfortunately, the drawback to standing so close to Abed is that he could hear everything Jeff was saying to Annie.

“Troy, initiate tickle immunity sequence!” Abed says. Troy sits up ram-rod straight. Abed swings his shoulders around so both of their backs are facing Annie. 

Annie leans down to whisper to Jeff, warm breath tickling his ear. “Um. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but it can’t be anything good.”

“Sequence initiated. Forward movement required.” Troy says, in a robot-like voice. Abed swings back around and races toward them, knees rising up and down in the water as he bounces with Troy on his shoulders. 

Simultaneously they say, “Troy and Abed give a warning!”

“Crap,” Jeff mutters. 

Troy karate chops the air, moving in closer and closer to Annie. Annie yelps and lunges towards Troy, giving him one last push, but it’s too late, because Troy grabs her by the shoulders and throws her backwards, off Jeff’s shoulders, and into the pool. 

Annie screams and crashes down into the water, her body completely submerged, before she rises a second later, sputtering and wiping water from her eyes. “Damn it!” She exclaims loudly. “We were so close.”

Troy slides off of Abed’s shoulders and into the pool again, where they clap their hands together in their handshake. 

“You guys suck,” Troy says. 

Annie scowls. “It’s not our fault we don’t spend our free time practicing for some stupid pool game! We have jobs and…we cook! And.. other things!”

“Like pine?” Abed asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“What?” Annie asks.

“Pine. As in long for something. Sometimes you stare a little too long at your phone like you’re waiting for a text that won’t come.”

Annie huffs. “Well maybe I have nothing better to do.”

Abed points at her. “You haven’t done it at all since Jeff’s been here.”

Annie flushes red and puts her hands on her hips. “Abed! That's not true.”

Abed looks at the two of them. “All I'm saying is you could be a better team if you stopped ignoring the unresolved sexual tension and communicated a strategy.” He shrugs. “Maybe next time.” Abed turns to Troy. “Inspector Spacetime is on soon. We should go if we want to catch the recap of last week’s episode.”

Troy nods. “See you guys.”

The two of them turn towards the house, grabbing their towels, and leaving Jeff and Annie standing in the pool. 

Jeff’s trying his best not to think too long about anything that’s just happened. Abed is constantly trying to inject storylines and plots into real life events that don’t actually exist. It’s what made Greendale so exciting and extraordinary. It’s what convinced Jeff that he could change. Turn from a selfish lawyer with no real friends to an amiable one with six or seven or eight weirdos that he loves like family. (Except for one particular ballistics examiner who he kind of loves in a different way.)

But it’s also the kind of thing that made Jeff soft and idealistic, constantly searching his life for A and B plots that don’t exist. He isn’t going to make that mistake here, reading into Abed’s words to explain how Annie might be feeling. 

Jeff laughs nervously as the back door slides shut. “What was that about?”

Annie fidgets with her hands, pressing her lips together. “You know,” she says, shrugging a little. “That’s just Abed being Abed.”

Jeff nods. They’re facing each other, now that they’re alone, and the night is so quiet. He’s pretty sure Annie can hear the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. He’s trying so hard, trying not to think, that he doesn't even realize he's drifting closer to her. Annie does, though, and her pupils dilate, blue eyes widening. 

This needs to stop. Immediately. Jeff shifts to turn around, to move away from her, anything. But Annie grabs him by the bicep and halts him. She swallows.

Jeff waits for her to speak, but Annie says nothing. The silence is expectant, thick and full of wanting. Annie’s skin feels bumpy where their arms are brushing together. 

“You cold?” He asks her finally.

“No," Annie says quietly, her voice just above a whisper. “Definitely not.” Annie’s eyes don't leave his, daring him to make a move. Her tongue darts out to lick her lips, and the movement catches his eye.

Annie leans in, and their faces are a hair apart, the tension taut enough to snap a rubber band. 

Until the light goes out and they’re plunged into complete darkness. Annie gasps and her hand tightens on Jeff’s arm.

“Sorry!” Troy calls out and the light switches back on. “I shut off the wrong light.”

Jeff eases his arm from Annie’s grasp and he can feel the headache already coming on, a sharp, stabbing pain settling right behind his eyelids. He clenches his jaw. It’s only been a day and this whole thing is already frustrating as hell. Jeff’s going to lose his mind. 

“We should probably…” Annie says, gesturing back to the house and avoiding his eyes.

“Yeah, right,” Jeff mumbles. “We should.”

Annie nods, like she's made some big decision and she starts walking towards the steps, her hair swinging behind her like she’s some kind of goddess.

Jeff should be grateful; Troy’s interruption had saved them from making a decision they’d both regret. But he feels hot, worked up, and irritated.

It’s stupid, because he’d been just fine with holding himself back at Greendale. Okay, so not  _ fine _ , but his feelings were easier to repress with at least six other people and their problems floating around. 

Jeff wonders if he’s missed something. 

He thinks back to his conversation with Annie in the entryway, the way she said she wanted to keep things professional, but then put a hand on his arm. Stepped into his personal space, until he could smell the wine on her breath. 

Jeff had assumed that they could get through the case, as friends, because he knew the limits of his own restraint. Had known for years. But Jeff’d forgotten to consider one vital detail. That Annie  _ might _ just want Jeff as much as he wants her. And if that’s the case, well. 

It means he’s well and truly fucked. 


	4. Chapter 4

Just after sunrise, Annie begins her drive. 

She had a plan that'd been looping over and over again in her mind, making her toss and turn all night. Around 6 AM, she finally gave up on sleep and decided to act. 

Annie was going to find Jane. 

Jane, who was the first to welcome her to the LAPD. Jane, who is meticulous, sharp, and guarded. Who had been there for Annie when things ended with Stefan and each and every time she was passed over by Gary DeLay. 

Out here in Los Angeles, outside of Abed and Troy, Jane was Annie’s closest friend. They bonded over a shared work ethic, working early hours and late nights, eager to get the job done right. If anyone would believe that Annie was innocent, it would be Jane. 

Besides that, Jane was the firearms specialist who Annie worked with on the Carter case. She would have seen if anyone rifled through Annie’s workstation.

As Annie drives, she considers telling Jeff about the meeting, but decides against it. It’s too early for him to be awake, anyway, so what good would it do to call him up and make him worry? Annie knows she can drive to work and back without him even noticing.

It shouldn’t be that difficult to find Jane, either. Annie knows that Jane gets in early, even on Fridays. If Annie’s lucky, she can catch her before everyone else in the department notices she’s there. 

So that’s the plan, Annie thinks as she pulls into the empty parking lot. She’ll sit quietly in the parking space until Jane arrives, and catch her on her way into work. 

The minutes tick by slowly, but Annie busies herself by typing on her phone, scrolling through Fenwick’s Facebook page while she waits.

Fenwick's profile picture loads on the screen and Annie is hit with a sudden coldness that hits her straight to the core. Ronald Fenwick is someone she knows. Ronny, she thinks. Stefan’s second cousin. The photos of Annie on his page are all taken at the resort they had booked, as a vacation to celebrate Stefan’s birthday. 

Her heart is pounding in her ears as she clicks picture after picture, until she lands on the photo the detective had shown her in her interrogation.

It’s Annie, in denim cut-offs and a white floral tank, laughing at something that’s off-screen. She’s nestled between Stefan and a woman who Annie has now learned is Fenwick’s wife. It’s strange to her, that this Ronny was the very same one found dead just weeks later. It’s even stranger that she never even thought to ask his last name. 

Annie glances up at the windshield just as a white BMW pulls into the parking lot and parks in the spot across from her. A small woman with jet black hair steps out of the vehicle, carrying a large tote bag. She knows immediately that it's Jane.

Annie opens the car door and jumps out, banging her shin on the side of the car. She ignores the pain in favor of waving at Jane frantically. “Jane!” 

Jane looks up, startled. “Annie? What are you doing here?” Her eyes scan the parking lot. No one else is around. 

“I need to talk to you,” Annie says, rushing over to her. Jane takes a step backwards. 

“Okay…” Jane says slowly. Her eyes trail over Annie’s figure and Annie realizes then that Jane is checking her for a weapon.

Annie puts her hands up. “Jane, I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to talk.”

Jame swallows. “About what?”

“The Fenwick case. I'm being framed. You know, you were with me the whole time.” 

Jane frowns. Her phone buzzes and she glances at it quickly to type out a message. “There were times you ran to the bathroom or grabbed something to eat,” Jane says. “You could’ve easily switched the evidence then.”

Annie fidgets with her hands. She knows Jane is just being cautious, but she thought their friendship was so much stronger than this. “I lost my ID, remember? Every time I left I needed to be let in by you. I couldn’t have signed out the evidence without my ID.”

Jane presses her lips together and nods. “You’re right. I do remember that. Do you think someone could have taken it?”

Annie nods. “Someone _had_ to have taken it. Did you see anyone rifling through my belongings or things?” 

Jane purses her lips. “Well. Sandra works closest to your workstation, so it could've been her. But Stefan had also dropped in earlier in the week to get an opinion on something. You weren’t there when he stopped by.”

Annie’s brow furrows. Stefan had come by? Why?

“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, Annie, but I was so engrossed in the Carter casework that I barely noticed who came in and out.” Jane bites her lip. “If it helps, I could think about it and send you a list?”

“Thank you! That would be so helpful.” 

Jane smiles, but it disappears quickly as a car revs into the parking lot, turning sharply and parking right behind where Annie is standing. “Shit. Sorry, Annie I-”

A car door slams shut and Annie whirls around. It’s Jeff. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, his hair mussed and lips pressed together in a very angry frown.

Crap. 

“Annie.” Jeff says, through gritted teeth, “Would you like to tell me why the DA called my phone at _7:20 AM_ , requesting that I get my client under control?”

Annie swallows. “Um,” she says, batting her eyelashes, trying to look as innocent as humanly possible, “They were talking about another client?”

Jeff scowls. “No.” He points at her. “ And that look isn’t going to work on me. Let’s go.” 

Annie crosses her arms and doesn’t move. “I'm in the middle of a-”

“ _Annie._ Let’s go.”

Annie sighs and starts walking towards her parking space. She hesitates before opening the car door, to look back at Jane, but Jane’s back is already turned and she’s headed inside the building. 

Annie’s phone buzzes with two new messages.

 **Jane -** _Sorry I texted the DA your whereabouts before I knew you were innocent. Couldn’t be too careful. I’ll send you the list of names asap._

 **Jane -** _Hope you’re not in too much trouble with that lawyer of yours. He’s gorgeous, though, so might not be the worst thing in the world. ;)_

Annie smiles at her phone. When she looks up again, Jeff is glaring at her, leaning up against her car. 

“Something funny?” He asks.

Annie presses her lips together and shakes her head solemnly. 

She waits for Jeff to talk, to lecture her about seeing a witness without him, but he just sighs loudly and says, “I’ll meet you back at the house.”

Annie gets back to the house shortly after Jeff. He leaves Troy’s car and waits for Annie to catch up to him, before continuing the rest of the walk up the driveway.

Despite the polite gesture, it’s no mystery that her visit to Jane definitely set him off-- Jeff slams the door too hard behind them once they get inside, toes off his shoes and then nearly trips over them, glaring at Annie when she reaches out an arm to help. 

Apparently her offer to make breakfast is no good either, because Jeff’s still cutting carbs from his diet and refuses to even _touch_ the blueberries she sets aside for him on the counter. He’s been broody and silent since they’ve gotten home, glaring at the top of her head like he can burn holes in it. 

Annie guesses that Jeff must be tired, so she points him in the direction of the coffee pot. But when Jeff takes a sip of the coffee, he grimaces. And that's where Annie draws the line with his petulance. She _knows_ her coffee is good. And Jeff Winger and his huffy attitude can take his insults and shove it up his-

“Crap.” Jeff sets down his mug too hard and coffee sloshes out the sides and all over the counter. He mutters curses under his breath, reaching for the paper towels. 

Annie lets out a shallow breath. “Is there something wrong?”

Jeff stops mopping up the coffee spill to stare at her, his eyes squinted, like he doesn’t quite understand the question. “No. It’s just-” He sighs. “I’m just tired, is all. It’s been a long day.” He drops into the stool at the counter.

Annie raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “It’s only 9 AM.”

“Exactly.”

Annie’s not going to waste her time trying to pull an explanation out of Jeff, especially if he isn’t willing to share, so she turns back around and pours her pancake batter into the pan, humming to herself, thinking about how pleased Abed and Troy will be when they wake up. 

“I would’ve slept more, you know, if it weren’t for the alarming wake-up call.”

Annie faces Jeff and puts her hands on her hips. “You didn’t have to drive to my work, Jeff. You could’ve just called. I had everything under control.”

Jeff heaves himself to his feet, so he can tower over her and look directly in her eyes. Annie’s throat suddenly feels very tight. “Under control is not attracting enough attention to get the DA on my ass. Under control is staying home, doing everything you can _not_ to look guilty,” he says. He points a finger at her. “You were intimidating a witness!”

Annie huffs. “Jane is my friend, Jeff! Why would I be intimidating her?”

“What else am I supposed to think, when the DA says I need to get my client _under control?”_

Annie crosses her arms. “Oh, I see. You think I’m crazy. Crazy Annie can’t handle the pressure, so she needs to go around intimidating witnesses to prove her innocence.”

Jeff rubs a tired hand over his face. “Annie. That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what _did_ you mean?”

“That you need to be more careful! One of these people is trying to ruin your life. It could be Jane, or someone else. If they’re bad enough to frame you then they’re bad enough to hurt you. And if anything happened to you and I could’ve helped I-” He runs a jerky hand through his hair and looks away. “You just shouldn’t be alone with any of them right now.” 

Annie bites her lip, because she can’t really argue with that logic. “But Jane wouldn’t have done this to me.” 

Jeff scoffs. “You’re so naive sometimes.” 

Annie narrows her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You think that because you’re friends that no one would ever do this to you.” 

“I never said that.”

“It was implied.” Jeff says. “You have to know that friends lie and hide their true feelings all the time. Even if you’ve known them for years.”

Annie crosses her arms. “Jane didn’t have time to go to evidence storage, Jeff. We were together at all times.”

Jeff puts his hands up. “All I’m saying is you think you know a person-”

“Okay,” Annie says, putting her spatula down on the counter. She has a feeling there’s more to this conversation than her relationship with Jane. “Can you explain to me what the hell this is really about?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Fenwick?” Jeff blurts out.

“I _don’t_ know Fenwick,” Annie says, frowning. “I mean, I didn’t before. Not really-”

Abed pads into the kitchen then, in his green pajamas, sniffing the air. “Is something burning?”

“The pancakes!” Annie gasps. 

Behind her, burnt to a crisp in the middle of her pan, is a charred and smoking pancake. 

It’s just a little thing, but Annie’s heart clenches in her chest, thinking that this is yet another example of something gone wrong. 

She's trying so hard to keep it all together. To figure out what's going wrong at work and the case. To keep Jeff at an arm's length but still informed. To make breakfast for Abed and Troy and try to go about life as usual.

But sometimes, little frustrations crawl under Annie’s skin and threaten to break through the cracks. 

Annie draws in a breath and forces back the tears. Just wash the pan and start over, she thinks. It’s only a pancake. A pancake. The reminder helps keep her from breaking down, so she plays it over in her mind on repeat, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach as she brings the pan to the garbage.

The next pancake Annie makes is perfect, but when she looks up to brag to Jeff or Abed about it, she finds herself alone in the kitchen. Her smile drops and she shuts her eyes. 

She’s not sure how much longer she can keep this up.

* * *

If Jeff weren’t working to save Annie’s ass, he would definitely be taking a sick day. He woke up this morning with an uncomfortable pressure behind his eyes, thanks to a particular phone call from hell, and despite his efforts to rub it away, it marches relentlessly on. 

But the phone call isn’t the only source for his headache, he thinks-- he’s been restless since the almost-kiss with Annie in the pool. He may have been weak and impulsive to let it happen, but Annie leaned in first and there were extenuating circumstances. (Circumstances being Annie in a bikini.) So maybe it's not the worst thing in the world.

All Jeff wants to do is lock himself in his apartment, slip between his 400 thread count sheets with a bottle of 12-year-old single malt Scotch and let the stress melt away. 

It would do him some good to have a breather, to shake this jittery, distracted feeling he gets every time he thinks of his conversation with Bill, or the way Annie had fled the house this morning without so much as a warning. 

Jeff’s not her parole officer or an overprotective boyfriend, or anything ridiculous like that, but he has a right, _as her lawyer_ , to know why she had snuck out of the house to visit a witness, unsupervised. It was just a lucky break that Jane had texted the DA and not the police, or they would have had a real slippery situation on their hands.

Unfortunately, Jeff doesn’t have the luxury of a sick day. Not when he’s here, in a house that’s much too large for three people, his bed tucked loosely with Star Wars sheets and not a bottle of Scotch in sight. 

Jeff’s got to really focus. It’s too easy to get distracted by the tension between him and Annie. He knows it’s been years since they’ve truly talked, but sometimes Jeff catches himself meeting Annie’s eyes and it feels like time hasn’t passed at all -- like last night, when Troy and Abed had suggested playing a game of charades. Jeff and Annie completely destroyed them, perfectly in sync with their words and actions. It felt like slipping on an old, familiar sweater.

But Jeff knows that the intimacy is dangerous. It’s a remnant of what used to be there so many years ago. It’s that same remnant that reassures him Annie wouldn’t swap the bullets, because she’s always cared too much about helping people and doing the right thing.

The Annie he knows stopped at nothing to confront the dean for his racial profiling. The Annie he knows was an unstoppable force in the Ass-Crack Bandit investigation. So unless the mayor was some kind of super villain, Jeff couldn’t see why Annie would condemn him to rot in jail for the rest of his life. 

But then there’s that nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, a kind of hollow emptiness, that reminds him that Annie’s hiding something. Something about Fenwick. That maybe he doesn’t know her as well as he thinks he does. Annie hid her plan to see Jane that morning. Who’s to say that she wasn't hiding other things too?

The thought makes Jeff feel nauseous, so he tamps the feeling down as hard as he can, so he doesn’t have to talk about it. 

But Annie notices, of course she does, and when she asks the one question he’s been waiting all morning for, Abed arrives in the kitchen and interrupts.

Jeff is simultaneously relieved and exhausted. He’s more relieved, though, especially when his phone buzzes with a message from Britta and gives him an excuse to leave the kitchen. 

_Where are you?_

Jeff rolls his eyes, annoyed, and tucks the phone back in his pocket without answering. He flops down on his bed, letting the breath flow out of him. But his phone goes off again, and then a third time. 

_You better be dead or in the hospital._

_Seriously??_

Jeff sighs and wants to throw it across the room.

_This isn’t like you._

_Jeff, I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes already._

Jeff freezes. Thirty minutes? For what? 

And then it hits him. It's Friday. He forgot he’s scheduled brunch with Britta. He rubs a hand over his face and types out a reply, but then his phone starts _ringing._

“What, Britta?!”

“Jeff, it’s Ava Sheehan. District Attorney. Are we still good for 5 o’clock today?”

Jeff clears his throat and immediately straightens. “Oh. Hi Ava, sorry. Yes, we’re still good.” 

“Great. I look forward to meeting with you and your client then. If you’ve found her.” 

Jeff forces a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ve got the situation under control.”

“Excellent. Talk to you later.”

Jeff sighs, ends the call, and types his message to Britta.

**_Something came up. I can't make it. I'm in LA._ **

And then Britta calls. 

“So you just decided to fly to LA one day?” Britta asks. “Without telling me?”

“Oh I didn’t tell you?” Jeff asks, rolling his eyes. “Must’ve been none of your business, then.”

“Jerk. What’s the occasion? Wait. Let me guess. You got drunk one night and booked a flight to Los Angeles to tell Annie how you really-"

“Nope.”

“The two of you have been texting since she broke up with what’s-his-face and now you’re dating?”

“Wrong again.”

“Okay,” Britta says. “I surrender. Tell me why you’re there.”

Jeff sighs heavily. “Annie’s in some trouble with the law. She called me to help her out.”

“Help her how?”

Jeff swallows thickly. “I'm her attorney.”

Britta breathes out a little laugh on the other end of the phone. “You’re kidding. Aren’t there restrictions about practicing law in certain states?”

Jeff’s face feels unbearably hot as he answers, “I took the bar in LA a couple years ago.”

“When?”

Jeff winces. “When Abed left?”

Britta scoffs. “Bullshit. It was when Annie got the job there, wasn’t it?”

Jeff doesn’t answer. 

“The silence speaks volumes,” Britta says. She’s quiet and Jeff stays unmoving, sprawled out on the comforter, staring at the ceiling as he waits for her to speak again. “I don't think this is a good idea, Jeff.”

Jeff squeezes his eyes shut and presses his palms to his sockets. A part of him believes she’s right. That Jeff flew to Los Angeles thinking with his heart instead of his head. That maybe a lawyer with a little less emotional baggage would be better for winning Annie’s case. But he can’t let Britta know that. 

“Remember when I asked for your opinion?” Jeff asks. “Me neither.”

He’s expecting a sharp retort in retaliation, but Britta just sighs. “How bad is it?”

Jeff presses his lips together and lowers his voice. “It’s pretty bad. We have some semblance of a defense, but the evidence against her is massive. She’s innocent, though.”

“Definitely innocent, or innocent as in, she’s guilty and you’re lying to yourself for the sake of her defense?”

Jeff hesitates. “I don’t think she would do something like this. But,” he frowns. “I don’t know her like I used to. I can’t shake the feeling that she’s hiding something.”

“Just… be careful, Jeff. With her, but with you too. If the case doesn’t go the way you planned, it could really mess up your friendship.” 

He wants to laugh, because what friendship? He and Annie were barely hanging on before all of this happened.

“If you need anything I can come-”

“Thanks, but I don’t need a therapist, Britta. I’ve got it covered.” Jeff says. “I gotta go.”

“Okay. And just because it’s an emergency, I’ll let it slide that you stood me up, but if you ever do this to me again I swear I’ll-”

Jeff doesn’t hear the rest because he’s already hung up the phone.

He settles back on his bed and counts the crevices in the ceiling. The meeting with the DA is in a couple of hours, and if his instincts are right, she’ll have prepared a plea deal for Annie. He’s thinking it’ll be information on the murder in exchange for a lighter sentence. If Annie is truly innocent, though, there is no information Annie could offer them in solving Fenwick’s murder. 

Jeff’s startled from his thoughts when there’s a knock on the door. Annie is standing there, wearing jeans and a blue floral blouse, that does amazing things for her eyes. He swallows.

“Hey,” she says. “Can we talk?”

Jeff sits up on his bed and doesn’t look at her. “As long as it doesn’t involve more burning pancakes.”

Annie rolls her eyes. She walks to the bed and perches on the end of it, careful to keep her distance from him. “You’re annoyed with me, aren’t you?”

“A little.”

She frowns. “Just a little?”

“Okay,” Jeff admits. “A lot.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I wish you told me you were seeing Jane this morning.”

Annie bites her lip. “I know I should’ve run it by you first, but I had to see her immediately. And if it wasn’t at work, before everyone else got there, I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to.”

Jeff shakes his head. “It wasn’t like it was a spur of the moment thing, Annie. You knew perfectly well what you were going to do beforehand and you didn’t tell me.”

“Because I didn’t want you to stop me.”

Jeff sighs. “Look, Annie. I know this is complicated because we’re friends and we have a...history. But if we want this to work, we need to get on the same page. We can’t get distracted by the other things. We need to be open with each other about everything. Who we’re meeting with, where we’re going. This…” he gestures between the two of them. “Isn’t working right now. It’s been like a day and we’ve already had two separate arguments.”

Annie’s expression goes blank, which is frustrating because he can’t tell what she’s thinking. She stands up from the bed and starts to pace across the room. That’s it, Jeff thinks. He’s said the wrong thing and now she’s going to let him have it. She’s going to accuse him of being too overprotective. She wanted a lawyer, not a friend who has his nose in every aspect of her business.

Well, fine, Jeff thinks. If she wants to fuck up her own case, why should he stop her?

But then Annie stops in front of him. “Okay,” she says. “No more secrets. I’ll tell you everything I know if you do the same.”

Jeff nods. “Deal.”

Annie smiles. “So I was thinking,” she says. “Do you want to look over the suspect list with me? I think we should know what we’re jumping into before we start building our defense.”

“Yeah. That’s a good place to start. We have a meeting with the DA at five today, so if we have a better handle on the evidence, we’ll be better off.”

“Five?” Annie asks, eyes wide. “But that’s in a few hours.”

Jeff grins. “We best get started then.”

* * *

Annie and Jeff spend hours combing through the details of everything Annie knows and the possible evidence that can be held against her. Jeff tells her that they can get the case thrown out in the preliminary hearings, if they can prove the evidence is not enough for probable cause. 

Annie emphasizes that they should take things one step at a time, focusing on the possible witnesses and suspects and her connections to them. She has an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, because despite what she’s promised, she isn’t coming completely clean. 

When they pull up the photo of Annie on Fenwick’s Facebook page, Jeff asks her who the man in the picture is, standing next to her. Annie tells him that he’s just a friend from work she’s gone hiking with a couple of times. She doesn’t even correct Jeff when he repeats the story, calling him Steven instead of Stefan. 

Jeff asks her to text “Steven” and schedule a meeting with him tomorrow, if she can, and she agrees. Even if the thought of it makes her chest tighten with anxiety.

Stefan replies with an immediate yes. 

Annie has a sneaking suspicion that Stefan has something to do with switching the bullets, but she hasn’t said anything about it to Jeff, because broaching the subject of an ex-boyfriend seems just about as harmless as walking headfirst into an oncoming hurricane. 

When they sit down in the district attorney’s office, Annie’s already on edge. 

The district attorney, Ava, is all-business, her natural hair pinned neatly into a bun, wearing a freshly-pressed green suit. She sets out a stack of paper in front of Annie and a gel ink pen, leaning back into her chair.

“It’s a standard proffer,” Ava says. “If you give us information that leads to a prosecution in the Ronald Fenwick murder, we’ll take care of you.” She nods to the paper. “We’ll knock down the sentence to three misdemeanors for obstruction, theft, and evidence tampering instead of a felony. That’s a year and a half of incarceration and a $3,000 fine.”

Annie sits back in her chair and feels sick to her stomach. It’s a good deal. Or it would be, if she had any information to offer. But the truth of the matter is, she knows absolutely nothing about the murder of Ronald Fenwick and she wouldn’t be able to agree to the terms even if she wanted to.

She sighs and looks sideways at Jeff, waiting for him to speak.

“My client has very limited information on the Fenwick murder and maintains her innocence,” Jeff says. 

Ava presses her mouth into a firm line. “I thought you might say that.” She turns to Annie and pushes the paper forward. “Take some time to think about it. I’ll give you until the preliminary to sign, but sooner than later would be much appreciated.”

Annie nods and manages a small thank you, but the words get stuck in her throat and come out all warbled. 

Annie’s not sure what she was hoping to get out of the meeting. Jeff had already explained the whole thing ahead of time, how there would be a deal on the table she wouldn’t be able to take. But Annie had been secretly hoping for something more. A kind smile from the prosecutor. A reassurance that everything would be okay. She wanted Ava to believe her, that she didn’t commit the crime, because she was a good person. 

Annie feels like she’s back in high school all over again, fighting a judgment thrust upon her by actions out of her control. And it feels like the world is caving in on her, the hopelessness washing over her like gasoline, slick and messy and suffocating. 

Even as Jeff squeezes her shoulder in the car ride home, she can’t help but think that there may not be a way out of this.

It's terrifying.


	5. Chapter 5

Jeff knows that Annie has always been focused. 

She loves challenges, loves to pick things apart and write lists in purple ink with a hundred possible solutions.

Jeff loves it too, but for different reasons. He loves to watch her work, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, scribbling notes into her brand new notebook paper. (It has nothing to do with the fact that she is seriously hot when she gets all worked up, skin flushed and biting at her bottom lip.) 

But ever since the meeting with the DA yesterday, something’s unbalanced her, flustered her in a way that lists can’t seem to undo. 

It’s probably for the best that Jeff doesn’t mention the case after the meeting. He wants to reassure her everything is going to be okay, but he can’t, not when he doesn’t know for sure. 

Today, though, he can’t avoid the subject for very long, because they’re going to see Annie’s co-worker, Steven. 

Steven’s looking pretty good for the murder of Fenwick _and_ the framing job, but Jeff has no idea what Steven’s motive could be. If Annie and Steven were such good friends, he wouldn't have framed Annie. Plus, Jeff couldn't see why anyone would want to murder their own cousin. 

As they drive, Annie stays uncharacteristically quiet. The only sounds are the soft crooning of the radio and the dinging of Annie’s car, alerting them that the gas tank is starting to get low. Annie ignores it.

“So how long have you and Steven known each other?” Jeff decides to ask, when they get off the highway. He tries to make it sound casual, like it’s just a question, even though he’s far more curious than he wants to let on. 

Annie jumps at the sound of his voice.”Oh, um. We-” She hesitates. “We met when I first started work. We got drinks after work almost every week. Me, him, Jane.”

“And not anymore?” Jeff asks.

Annie bites her lip. “What?” 

“You don’t get drinks anymore?”

Annie laughs, high-pitched and girlish. “Obviously not, Jeff. I’m not at work anymore.”

Annie’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel and Jeff wonders if he went too far with his line of questioning. She’s clearly distracted and Jeff doesn’t want to make her any more nervous by putting her through an interrogation. He’d rather get the information he needs from Steven. It’s what he should be focusing on instead. 

Steven seems to be in a cheerful mood when he opens the door to greet them, smiling at Annie in a way that makes Jeff’s skin crawl. Annie comes back to herself under his gaze, plastering on a smile, politely stepping into Steven’s arms when he opens them. 

“And who might this be?” Steven asks, when they break apart.

Annie smiles and touches Jeff’s shirt sleeve. “This is my lawyer, Jeff Winger. He has a few questions for you, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. Pleasure to meet you, Jeff.” He holds out a hand. 

Steven’s got dark brown hair slicked back with pomade (Jeff can smell it from where he's standing) and he’s dressed neatly in a blue polo shirt and a pair of khakis. Jeff can tell he lives alone by the absence of photos on the desks, the way the walls look so minimal and bare. 

Jeff grasps Steven’s hand, and it feels like a dead fish, but Jeff still shakes it firmly. “You as well, Steven.”

There’s something about Steven that’s so pleasant and suave that it’s disarming, and Jeff would almost like the guy if he missed the flicker of contempt in his eyes at the sound of his own name. 

“It’s Ste _fan_ ,” he says. His voice is barely condescending. Not completely, but it’s there, Jeff can hear it. 

Jeff feels his cheeks grow hot. Annie hadn't even bothered to brief him on how to correctly pronounce the guy’s _name._ “Sorry,” Jeff says quickly. “Stefan.” He shoots Annie a look and she laughs nervously. 

Stefan smiles and the unpleasantness disappears. He looks to Annie and puts a hand on the small of her back, leaning in close like he’s done it a million times before. “Now that we’ve got the introductions down, let’s have a seat, shall we? I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

Jeff nods and follows the two of them into the living room space. Stefan takes a seat in a grey armchair across from Annie and Jeff, who take the couch. Jeff is grateful for the glass table separating them. 

Stefan cocks his head at Annie, like he's taking her in for the first time, and Jeff wonders if he's going to have to start the awkward conversation that this meeting is not the appropriate setting for Stefan to hit on his client. Is Annie really so oblivious to the obvious attraction he has for her? 

But before Jeff can speak, the corner of Stefan’s mouth lifts and he says, “It’s been a long time, hasn't it, Ann? God, the last time we really spoke was what? When we called things off?” He shakes his head. “I’ve missed you. I stopped by last week to talk to you about Ronny and the case, but Jane told me you weren’t around.”

Jeff squints in confusion, looking over at Annie who is avoiding his gaze. Called things off? What the hell did that mean? 

Annie looks frozen, perched on the edge of the couch cushion like she’s afraid to even move. She smiles politely. “Must’ve been in the restroom or something,” she manages. 

“You…” Jeff doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. “Wait. You two were _involved_?” Jeff looks at Annie pointedly. He seriously needs her to say that he’s wrong, that she wasn’t keeping any more information from him, but she says nothing, staring at an empty spot on the back wall. 

Stefan nods. “Yeah, Annie and I dated for a couple of months before things got too busy with work.” He shrugs. “For both of us. The job’s very demanding.”. 

“I see,” Jeff says, as if he can understand why any man would give up on a woman so obviously out of his league because of his _work_. He needs to get them back on track before he loses it. “I have a few things to discuss with you about our case.”

Stefan nods. “Yes, absolutely. You probably have some questions about my relationship with Ronny.”

“Yes. We do,” Annie interrupts. “Why didn’t you tell me Ronald Fenwick was the same Ronny we went to Rancho Santa Fe with?”

Stefan sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “His death stunned me, Ann. I shut everyone out,” he says. “Even now, it’s hard for me to-” He takes a shuddering breath. “It’s hard for me to come to terms with what’s happened. I only came off of bereavement leave when I heard you were working on the case. I wanted you to confirm who did it. So I could…” He clenches his fists together, fingernails digging into his palms. “So I could find out who killed Ronny and punch that son of a bitch square in the face.” Stefan shakes his head. “And when I heard that you’d been taken in for switching the bullets, I completely lost it.”

“But you still agreed to talk with us,” Jeff says. “Why?”

Stefan’s lip curls. “I know Annie. She would never do anything like this to me.”

It's disturbing, because the words sound eerily similar to what Jeff said earlier to Bill, but Jeff puts the thought out of his mind because he’s got to be professional and keep his cool so that they can get as much information from Stefan as possible. 

Which should be easy. If he weren't so distracted by the fact that Annie withheld vital information from him. 

“But you haven't even bothered to call me since I was arrested.” Annie’s face reddens. “Do you know that all of the evidence they have on me is because of _you?_ ”

“What do you mean?”

Annie digs out her phone and pulls out the picture of the two of them and Fenwick’s wife. 

On closer inspection, it’s glaringly obvious to Jeff that Annie and Stefan were more than friends. They’re leaning into each other with an ease and comfort that could only come from months of shared closeness. Jeff clenches his jaw and ignores the way his stomach hardens at the thought.

“This,” Annie says, holding out the phone for Stefan to see. “They think Fenwick and I have a close relationship because of this photo.” Her jaw tightens. “And that’s not all.”

Annie digs into her purse to retract a folded up wad of paper and straightens it out on the table. “My bank statement. These transfers they have on me? They’re from Fenwick too. I just didn’t know it was him because it was only listed as an account number.” 

Stefan wrinkles his brow. “Why was Ronny sending you money?”

Annie laughs harshly. “Really?” She asks. “You forgot about the resort already?”

Stefan’s expression goes slack. “No, of course not, Ann. I-”

Annie scowls. “Stop calling me that. Fenwick gave me the money to pay for the reservation and you told me to pay for our reservation in cash. You expect me to believe that the framing job was just a coincidence?”

Stefan looks down, staring at his hands. “Annie, I swear I would never ruin your life like this. Ronny was like a brother to me. I would never kill him or jeopardize any part of the investigation if it meant getting him justice.” He looks up at her earnestly. “I swear, it was just a coincidence. You know me. I wouldn’t do this. Just like I know you wouldn’t swap the bullets.”

Annie’s face hardens and she leans forward to point a finger at him. “You know _nothing_ about me, Stefan.” Jeff smirks. Annie lets out a breath. “Tell me you kept the receipts I gave you. At the very least.” 

Stefan presses his lips together. “It was a long time ago,” he says. “I probably threw them out. You’re going to have to request it from the resort.” 

Annie sags against the couch and presses a hand to her temple, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“I’m sorry, Annie. I can testify that the wired money was for a vacation instead of a payment…”

Annie stands up. “And what? They’ll believe you because we used to date? They’ll just believe I have you wrapped around my finger. Just like everyone else.”

Jeff’s barely keeping up. His mind is spinning, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Stefan’s an ex-boyfriend, Fenwick’d wired vacation money to Annie’s bank account. It was all news to him. But he doesn’t get the chance to think about it, because Annie doesn't wait a second before she’s turning on her heel and bolting out the door of Stefan’s apartment.

Jeff grabs Annie’s bank statement that she’s left behind and nods at Stefan. “We’ll be in touch.” And then he’s following her out the door and into the rain.

* * *

Annie gets to her car and slams her fists against the steering wheel. Her throat feels tight and constricted, but she stuffs down every part of her that wants to break down and waits for Jeff to get in the car. 

God, what is wrong with her these days? She can’t even think straight and she’s making stupid decisions without thinking anything through. Annie blames Jeff and the way he’s muddled her mind, making it impossible to decide what to do with him. She promised she’d let him in, tell him everything he needed to know, and yet there’s a part of her that still resists.

It’s the part of her that knows how dangerous it is to let Jeff in close. Every time she looks into his eyes, she feels like she’s being transported back into the past, a whirlwind, a blue black hole, sucking her in, making her ache all over, like he’s her phantom pain. 

Jeff slams the car door shut behind him, his jaw clenching as he slides into the seat next to her. “What the hell was that?” He asks. “I thought we talked about keeping secrets and we agreed it was a bad idea.”

Annie knows she seriously messed up. She had (stupidly) assumed she'd be able to get through the meeting without bringing up her relationship with Stefan. She’d come with the intention of confronting Stefan about his relationship with Fenwick, but Jeff had prepared the questions for that, so she should have let him take the lead and let it go.

Her plan was to tell Jeff about their relationship afterwards, when he’d already established his judgment about Stefan and she wouldn’t have to worry of him being too overprotective of her.

But then Stefan had put his hand on her back, called her that nickname she used to like (because it was different enough to be cute and worked for the Annie post-Greendale), and she snapped. She wasn't his girlfriend anymore and she'd be damned if she let him hold their relationship over her, dead cousin or not. Stefan’s connection to her was the connection that ruined _everything_.

There's no sense rationalizing her secretive behavior to Jeff. Annie had avoided the subject because she could. She thought she was worried that a jealous Jeff would impede her case, but her _true_ worry was about what Jeff would think of her now, knowing that the man he sat across from was the one she had chosen to be with ~~instead of~~ after him. 

It’s what her life has been split into, since Greendale. A before and after. And she had always kept the before parts separated from the afters because it was too much to think about how the two would coincide. If Jeff would still love her for the guarded person she was now. How Jane would react to meeting Britta and Shirley and Chang. 

She has two choices now. She could let Jeff in. Tell him about her ex-boyfriends and failed attempts to move on, her purposeful distancing, the way she drafted texts to him in the middle of the night, only to delete them right after.

Or the alternative. More of the same. Keep Jeff at a distance and preserve the image he had of her. His Annie, young but ambitious, and always unattainable. 

She knows which option she wants, but she’s terrified. She hasn’t been so vulnerable with someone in a long time. Especially someone she ~~used to love~~ loves.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I probably should have told you-”

“Probably? I looked like an idiot, Annie. I couldn’t even say the guy’s name right.”

Annie presses her lips together and she has to swallow hard to stop the tears that are pricking at the corner of her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says again. 

Jeff says nothing.

It’s not until they’re on the highway that Annie lets the tears fall. She squeezes the steering wheel in her hands, trying desperately to keep the sobs inside of her, squeezes so hard until she feels sick. 

The sky is blanketed with dark clouds overhead, fat droplets leaving dime-sized patches on the windshield of her car. Annie turns on the windshield wiper, watches as the droplets flick away. She wishes she could do the same with the hot, salty tears tickling her cheeks as they slide down her chin into her lap. 

The highway is glossy with rain, car lights illuminating the puddles, tires kicking up water like rising steam, making it impossible to see the road. Annie’s own eyes are cloudy and she shudders a breath. She probably shouldn’t be driving right now. Her car dings.

“Annie, we need to get off the highway,” Jeff says. She glances at Jeff from the corner of her eye and his gaze looks pained, his hand flexing and unflexing in his lap, like he wants to reach out to her but he doesn’t know how. Or if he should. 

Annie doesn’t blame him, she’s practically betrayed him twice now, first with Jane and then with Stefan, and all she can come up with is a sorry. Another shudder escapes her.

“Annie, please, we’re running out of gas.” Jeff pleads. 

His voice calms Annie for a minute, because it gives her a plan. But it’s not long after, when she sees that her gas tank is empty, that she starts to panic again. She swipes at the tears on her cheeks, putting on her blinker to signal for the next exit. 

The exit winds down and away from the highway and onto a main road. Annie takes a deep breath, so when she speaks it comes out steady. “Can you look up the nearest gas station, please?”

Jeff nods and starts tapping away on his phone as Annie continues to drive, keeping her eyes on the road for the nearest station. 

“The next one is ten miles away. Can we make it?”

Annie grimaces. “I don’t know.” 

“Fuck.” Jeff says. “We have to try.”

Annie nods. Her heart is aching in her chest and she feels like she can’t breathe, but she has to keep driving. If they don’t make it, then they’ll be stranded in the rain.

It’s 9.5 miles later, when the car engine sputters, that Annie really starts to panic. “Oh God,” she mutters to herself. “Please no. Please.” 

The car goes two minutes more before she has to pull off to the side of the road. And then the engine dies. 

“Crap.” Jeff mutters. He lets his head fall back to the headrest.

A flurry of thoughts run through Annie’s head and they're all negative. She should've been paying more attention or stopped for gas earlier. She’s stupid and useless and all of this is her fault. Again. When she speaks, her voice cracks. “How far are we from the gas station?”

Jeff squints at his phone, eyebrows pulling down in concentration. “10 minute walk?” 

“Okay. Let’s go.”

“In this weather?” Jeff asks, slightly incredulous. He gestures to the windshield, where the rain is falling hard, wet darts pattering on the glass. 

Annie nods. “It’ll be twenty minutes there and back. We don’t have any other choice.”

Jeff shakes his head. “We can call Troy. Or get someone to tow us.”

Annie shifts in her seat. She just wants to get out. She can't bear the thought of sitting in the car with Jeff in silence, waiting, the air tense and stifling between them.

“That’s going to take too long,” Annie says. She puts her hand on the handle of the car and opens the door. “I’m going,” she says. “You can stay here or come if you’d like.” 

She makes the mistake of looking back at Jeff, her heart crumbling a little at the way his eyebrows pinch together, like he doesn’t quite recognize the woman he’s looking at.

And so it begins, Annie thinks. The collision of the before and afters. Like two stars clashing together, simultaneously bearing new and destroying the old.

Annie slams the door of the car and pulls her phone out to search for the nearby gas station, rain droplets clinging to her screen, making it difficult to type. Her phone loads with the directions and she takes off, water soaking through her clothes, sticking to her skin.

It’s satisfying to walk in the storm, because her tears wash away in the rain like sidewalk chalk, and she doesn’t have to keep it all inside anymore.

A car door slams behind her and Jeff is running, catching up to her in two or three strides. 

He grabs her arm. “What the hell has gotten into you?” he demands.

Annie shrugs him off, like she doesn’t really know, but she’s not convincing enough, her shoulders sagging heavily under the weight of her emotions.

“If I'm going to walk in the rain for the next twenty minutes, I'm going to need more than a shrug, Annie.”

“I’m just distracted,” Annie insists. “I wasn’t paying attention to the gas tank. It was raining and I was trying to focus on the-”

“I’m not talking about the gas. I mean everything else. You keep hiding things from me without explanation. Why didn't you tell me Stefan was your ex? That’s _motive_. He could be the one that’s framing you.”

Annie shakes her head. “I know he didn’t frame me, Jeff. We ended on good terms and he’s right. Stefan wouldn’t jeopardize his cousin’s investigation.”

Jeff scoffs. “Unless he killed Fenwick himself.”

“No,” Annie says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Stefan wouldn’t do that. He loved Ronny.”

“And you gathered that from what? A ten minute conversation and two resort trips? He’s a smooth talker, Annie. All substance, no meaning. He’s an expert at deception.” 

“He’s not,” she snaps and her voice is loud enough that it echoes. 

Jeff’s eyes dim suddenly then, glancing away from her. She watches the muscles in his jaw clench as he tenses, retreating back into himself. “Is there something I'm missing here?” Jeff asks. “A reason why you're being so protective? Don’t tell me you still have feel-”

“No.” Annie’s jaw tightens. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. You’d get jealous and pin the whole thing on Stefan without reason.”

Jeff laughs incredulously. “Without _reason?_ You said it yourself, all the evidence against you is because of _him_.”

“It wasn't him, Jeff.”

Jeff doesn't seem to hear her. “And what could I possibly be jealous of? The fact that it didn’t work out between you two? The guy’s an idiot. He missed out on the best thing to have ever happened to him and I’m _happy_.”

Annie feels some part of her break- perhaps the part of her that stubbornly clings onto the fear, the wariness, the idea of before and afters, and part of her hates Jeff, for saying these things even when he’s frustrated. It’d be so much easier if he were angry, so she could give him the silent treatment and walk away, instead of having to explain the turmoil that’s going through her mind right now. 

Annie takes a deep, pained breath. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I wish I could give you a better explanation for keeping it from you. But there is none. I was stupid and I was afraid.” She sighs. “You went from knowing absolutely nothing about my life to learning all the nitty-gritty details.” She lowers her head. “Even the ones I tried to hide. I wanted to keep them from you because I was afraid of what you might think of them.” She clears her throat. “And of me, now.”

“Annie,” Jeff says quietly. He stops walking. 

She turns to face him. He’s standing with his hands at his sides, looking at her with the exact same look in his eyes that day in the study room. It’s so tender, soft even, and it breaks her heart. “I'll always care for you, Annie. No matter where you are or-” He swallows. “Or who you date. That’s why I'm here.”

Annie bites her lip and she knows the tears are threatening to fall again, because she anticipated more fury and fighting, more of his painful sarcastic jabs or stonewalling. She feels a strange tightness in her chest, one that she can't attribute to skipping breakfast, because it burns through her body in a way that an empty stomach can't. 

“Thank you,” Annie whispers. “And not just for saying that. For everything, Jeff. I don't know what I would do without you here.”

Jeff nods and when he opens his arms to her, she doesn’t think before she falls into them, gripping him tightly around the middle, the two of them soaked to the bone. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers against his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Just let me know what’s going on next time, okay? I hate being blind-sided.”

Annie smiles a little. “Okay.”

When they arrive at the gas station convenience store, it’s blasting AC and Annie feels the cold all the way down to her toes. There are goosebumps on Jeff’s forearms and the store lights make his skin look almost blue. It strikes her suddenly, the stark difference between Jeff’s buttoned-up appearance from this morning and his look now. Hair is stuck to his head in wet slicks, dripping water into his face. His expensive collared shirt is clinging tightly to his chest, weighted down by the rain. 

Jeff looks disheveled, strangely worn.

Annie smoothes her soaked hair back behind her ears as she trails behind Jeff, checking the aisles for gas canisters. She feels awful, for everything she’s put him through and more. The lies and the secrets, the panic and the rain. 

After they’ve purchased the gas, they leave the store, Annie shivering, Jeff by her side, holding the bright red gas canister. 

The walk back goes by much faster than the walk there, and it’s not long before they arrive at the car. Jeff unscrews the gas tank of Annie’s car and pops off the cap on the red gas container. 

Guilt pools in Annie’s stomach. “Jeff, you don't have to. I can do it.”

“It's fine,” Jeff says. “I've got it.”

“No,” Annie says. “I can do it myself. I'm the one who got us into this whole mess.”

Jeff puts the gas container on the ground. “I _know_ you can do it, Annie,” he says. “But let me help.” 

Annie presses forward anyway, bending down to pick up the gas container. “No, really, it’s-”

Jeff stops her. He grips her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him, eyes locked on hers, unnervingly, tremendously blue. “You don’t have to do everything alone anymore.”

“I-” she stammers.

Jeff releases her. Annie drops the container to the ground and a drop of gasoline leaks out, spills onto the wet asphalt, leaves a rainbow sheen.

“I’m here for you.” His voice is strangled, and when her eyes flicker down to his hands, she notices them clenching. “If you’ll just let me in.”

Annie doesn’t move, swallows hard. 

“I mean it, Annie,” he says, voice ragged. “It's so hard to be kept at an arm's length from you. When I want so badly just to-” He rakes a hand through his hair. 

“Jeff…”

“Be with you.”

Annie stays silent. 

Jeff laughs, all self-deprecating and loud. “Fuck. I know I can’t- I said I wouldn’t-” he takes a breath. “But you have to know that, right?”

Annie’s throat feels tight. 

The terrible part is that she knows. From the moment Jeff smiled at her in the police station, his eyes crinkling in the corners. From the way he dropped everything in his life to come and help her with her own. She’s known all this time and been too much of a coward to do anything about it. Hiding behind the case as an excuse not to let him in. 

“Yeah,” she says, “I know.”

Annie’s always known blue is a dangerous color, the color babies turn when there’s not enough oxygen, the color a gas flame burns when the heat is hotter than 2600 degrees, but those things pale in comparison, pale in danger, to the way Jeff’s eyes are looking at her now. 

She can’t hold back anymore, because she knows that being with Jeff is what she wants too. She loves him, loves him still, after all these years. 

It will destroy her in the end, she knows it will, but Annie craves him like a blue flame craves oxygen, and she's going to hold onto that feeling, use it all up until it all burns away.

The rain is soaking through Annie’s clothes and tickling her hair and dripping cold down the back of her neck, but it barely registers as her hands find the front of Jeff’s shirt. 

She tugs Jeff in and kisses him desperately, in the way she remembers, in the way that unravels them both.

He kisses the same way he kissed her back at Greendale, strong and sure, but soft, like he’s expecting her to put an end to it at any moment, his lips like fire, burning her blood like gasoline.

The gas tank stays unfilled and rain is starting to drip from Annie’s eyelashes, but Jeff’s hand comes up to cup the back of her head, clutching her closer like he can’t stop kissing her, even if he wanted to. 

So she just kisses him and forgets everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by summer storms. The best kind of weather <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the really long wait, I wanted to write the rest of the fic before I published this chapter. This one's a bit short, but rest assured that more will be coming in the next few days! Thanks for hanging in there and enjoy the read.

It’s by some kind of miracle that Annie isn’t home when Jeff leaves his room on Sunday morning. It’s not that he doesn’t _want_ to see her, it’s just that he needs some time to clear his head of all the overthinking he’s been doing since yesterday. 

Last night was absolute torture, Jeff unable to do anything other than stare at Annie’s mouth, unable to focus on anything other than the way Annie’s tongue darts out to lick her lips, the way her jaw moves when she says his name. Annie seems oblivious to it, seemingly unbothered that a few hours earlier, their mouths were locked together in what was probably the most scorching kiss in all of Jeff’s life. 

Jeff needs a distraction. He goes for a run, sprinting nearly three miles, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion, just to get the overthinking out of him. 

It’s not enough, so he jumps in the shower, turns the temperature just above freezing, and shuts his eyes, trying not to think about anything too deeply.

It’s around 11 AM when Jeff finally exits the bathroom in a fresh navy button-down and trousers. He heads to the kitchen, his stomach growling. Abed is standing at the counter pouring cereal into a green bowl. He looks up, mid-pour, and holds up the box to Jeff. Cheerios spill out the top and all over the counter. 

“Want some?” Abed asks.

“I’m trying to avoid carbs.”

Abed frowns. “We ran out of eggs yesterday. We go shopping on Sundays.” 

Jeff sighs and grabs the box from Abed’s hands. Staying at someone else’s place has its drawbacks. He pours himself a bowl and reaches for the milk carton. If he’s going to break his diet, might as well go all the way. “Can I ask you something?”

Abed makes a finger gun with his hand. “Shoot.”

“What’s the deal with Stefan?”

Abed stops chewing and studies Jeff’s face intently. “Stefan? Annie’s ex?”

“Yeah, have you met him?”

“Once or twice. Annie didn’t talk about him much,” Abed says. “Stefan was her ‘wrong guy.’ You know, the love interest whose only purpose is to spur the main couple into action. Like Emily Waltham in Friends. But you never took action and neither of them were all that serious about the relationship, so it turned into an aborted love triangle arc.” He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. 

“What’s he like?”

Abed tilts his head. “He’s the classic Nice Guy. Psychologically well-balanced without a dark and troubled past. Likeable.”

Great, Jeff thinks, so the complete opposite of him.

“You should probably ask Annie. She knows him much more.”

Jeff nods, though he has no intention of asking Annie about her ex-boyfriend. “So they broke up when? February?” 

“I think it was right after Valentine’s Day. She didn’t seem too sad about it.”

“Okay,” Jeff says. “Thanks. Now-”

“Why?” Abed interrupts. “Why do you want to know about Stefan?”

Jeff shrugs. “It’s nothing. I just met him yesterday and…”

“You think he framed Annie.”

“Possibly.” Jeff purses his lips. “Do you think he'd be capable of murder?”

Abed squints at him and shakes his head. “Murder requires effort, soemthing he clearly won’t put in if he couldn't even make it work with Annie.”

Jeff nods and takes a bite of his cereal. He feels uncomfortably hot under Abed’s scrutiny. 

“Annie didn’t tell you about him.” Abed says. It’s supposed to be a question, probably, but Abed says it like a statement. “She led you in blind because she was afraid of what you might think of her relationship with him.”

Jeff looks away. 

“Is that why you wouldn’t look at Annie during our game of charades? Were you mad?” 

Jeff hesitates. Yesterday, after he and Annie had come home (and showered and changed out of their soaking clothes), they’d played charades with Troy and Abed. Jeff had to pretend he actually cared about winning to avoid looking or talking to Annie, afraid that any stolen glance might give him away. Abed noticed anyway, it appears.

Jeff forces a laugh and shakes his head. “Not at all. You’re reading into things, Abed.” 

Abed shrugs, picking up his cereal bowl and walking to the couch. “If you say so.”

Jeff slumps into a stool at the counter and sighs, just as Annie walks into the room.

Her arms are full of groceries and she dumps them unceremoniously on the counter with a huff. She’s wearing a short-sleeved pink dress that ends just above her knees, her sunglasses hooked in the neckline, tugging it down a little more than he can handle. Jeff sits up a little straighter in his chair. He wonders what Annie has planned today, dressed like that.

“Cereal?” Annie asks. She frowns and crosses her arms over her chest. “You reject my pancakes but eat Abed’s cereal?”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “You ran out of eggs.”

Annie shakes her head. “If you had waited ten minutes, I would've been home with your precious eggs.”

Jeff shovels another spoonful of cereal in his mouth. “Too late,” he says, mouth full. “I was hungry.”

Annie sighs and begins putting the food away in the cabinets. Jeff stops chewing to watch her, her brows furrowed in concentration as she digs through the bags.

“What is it?” Annie asks, putting a bag of peppers down. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” Jeff says quickly. “You just- you look great.” And it’s true- but he’s not about to tell her how seriously hot he thinks she is over a bowl of Cheerios.

She flushes and tilts her head coyly. “You like the dress?”

“I do,” Jeff says. “Very much.”

Her gaze lingers on him for a moment and Jeff can feel the warmth rising to his cheeks, so he turns away and fiddles with his spoon.

Annie clears her throat. “So. I was thinking, for today, we could pay Sandra a visit. I’ve already texted her and asked to come by.”

“That’s great.” Jeff says. “What time?”

Annie looks apologetic. “10 minutes? I’m sorry, I meant to tell you, I just got so distracted with the shopping.”

“Don’t worry.” Jeff says. “Let me grab my stuff and we can head out.”

* * *

Standing in the doorway of Sandra’s cramped two-bedroom house, Annie feels strangely anxious.

Sandra ushers them in and moves the blankets off the couch, so Annie and Jeff can sit down. She grimaces. “Sorry for the mess. It’s been crazy. My daughter is staying with my ex-husband this weekend and she threw a bit of a fit before she left. She couldn’t find her favorite shirt.”

Sandra’s floor is littered with velvet cloths, tarot cards and golden tassels. Jackets, t-shirts, socks, and notebooks. Annie is surprised, since Sandra is immaculately put together at work, with not so much as a single hair out of place.

It makes Annie immediately tense, because already things are not going how she imagines. 

Annie woke up this morning, productive and cheerful, determined that she was finally going to solve the case as she got dressed this morning. But now, as she sits back on the sofa beside Jeff, she feels a bit out of sorts.

Yesterday's kiss probably has something to do with it, if she's being honest. 

Annie couldn’t sleep last night, tossing and turning, wondering what the kiss was going to mean for the two of them. Would they have to do long distance or would she move back to Greendale? Would Jeff ever consider moving to LA?

It’s a stupid train of thought, because none of it is guaranteed if she ends up in jail, but her mind takes her there nonetheless.

She looks over at Jeff, whose brow is furrowed, staring at all the objects on the floor. Their eyes meet and he mouths, “ _Psychic?”_ with an expression that suggests Sandra’s probably insane. Annie has to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud. 

“Don’t worry,” Annie says to Sandra, sympathetically. “I know about messes.”

“You have kids of your own?” Sandra asks.

Annie shakes her head. “No, housemates.”

Sandra wrinkles her nose. “Housemates.”

“Yes.” Annie drops her gaze to the tarot cards on the floor. “Is your daughter into psychic readings?” 

“Oh no. She’s only fourteen. I just do some readings on the weekend.”

Jeff snickers quietly beside her and Annie shoots him a glare. “I didn’t know that,” she says. 

Sandra has more to her than meets the eye, that’s for sure. For someone who is so passionate about work in science, it seems odd to Annie that she has a passing interest in something so metaphysical. 

“Of course you didn’t. Nobody does. What I do in my personal life is my own business.” Sandra says. She pauses. “Anyway, I know why you’re here.”

“Of course you do,” Jeff mutters. Annie nudges him with an elbow.

“You want to know why I turned you in,” Sandra says. “You want to know how I noticed it was you who swapped the bullets.”

Annie shakes her head. “It wasn’t me who swapped them. Someone is framing me.”

Sandra laughs. “For the sake of appearances, sure, we can go with that.” 

“Someone stole my ID,” Annie insists. “I’m serious.”

Sandra smiles, her eyes sparkling in amusement. “I know you are.” She tucks a curl behind her ear. “Don’t worry, Annie. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Annie folds her hands in her lap and waits.

Sandra closes her eyes and leans back into her chair with an exaggerated casualness. “After you concluded your delightful evidence report, they did a complete sweep of the mayor’s property, and reported that his gun was missing.”

Annie bites her lip. “Is that how they figured out the bullets were switched?”

“Not exactly,” Sandra says. “There was video footage of someone entering the mayor’s garage. It was dated before your report had been completed.”

“Could they see who it was?” Jeff asks.

“No, it was too dark.” Sandra answers quickly. “The footage confirmed that there was tampered evidence. Gary called me into the office the next day, and asked me if I had switched the bullets when I took them from the coroner’s. I told him no, and that I was going to test them, but the log said Annie'd already taken them out.” She purses her lips. “I was pissed, but what could I do? I let it go.”

“And then what?” Annie asks.

“I’m getting there,” Sandra says sharply. “If you’d stop interrupting.” She sighs. “After that, Gary reviewed the evidence log, saw your name on it twice, and figured out that you had messed with the evidence.” 

Annie narrows her eyes. “If I had messed with the evidence, don’t you think I would’ve been a little more careful?”

Sandra shrugs. “You’re smart, Annie, but this wouldn’t be the first time you were sloppy with your work.” 

Annie can feel her blood starting to boil. Stupid Sandra, with her snide remarks and unwavering confidence. How much Annie would give to-

“Did you see anyone at Annie’s workstation?” Jeff asks. “Was there anyone close enough to access her ID card and get into the evidence room?”

Sandra hesitates. “I only saw two other people near her workstation. Stefan and Jane. Stefan said he was looking for you, Annie, but you weren’t there, so he talked to me instead. Gary came in and out a couple of times, but not long enough. The detectives know they shouldn’t touch our workspace.”

“What did Stefan say? ” Annie asks. 

“Just small talk.” Sandra says. She smirks. “But it told me everything I needed to know.”

“What do you mean?” 

Sandra leans forward in her chair. “It's obvious. Stefan killed Fenwick, and paid you to switch the bullets. You just screwed up by signing the log twice.” 

“I didn’t swap the bullets,” Annie snaps. She’s aware of Jeff shifting uncomfortably in the corner of her eye.

“Then, please, offer me a _better_ explanation.”

Annie’s cheeks burn. She has nothing else to say. No other explanation. No matter how many times she runs it over in her mind, she hasn’t been able to piece together a story that makes sense. So she ignores the question. “Where were you the night of Fenwick’s murder?”

Sandra smiles and tilts her head to the side. “It was a full moon that day, wasn’t it? They say the moon has a way of heightening psychic sensitivities. It reveals what is no longer serving you and what needs to be healed.” She folds her hands in her lap. “Where were _you_?” 

Sandra doesn’t wait for a reply, her brown eyes trained on Annie. “Let me see. You were lying at home in bed like you always do. Thinking of…” She trails off for a moment, her eyes darting to Jeff. “Your lawyer over here. You’re a little in love with him, aren’t you? But he lives far away and he’s so closed off with his feelings. That’s hard, isn’t it?”

Annie looks away. 

“We’re here because of the case.” Jeff says. “So if you have nothing else to tell us then…” 

Sandra grins, a glint in her eye. “Just go talk to Stefan. He knows more. Did you know he and Fenwick were cousins?”

Annie lifts her chin in defiance. “As a matter of a fact, we did. And that gives him even _less_ motive to want to kill Fenwick.”

“Hm.” Sandra says. She folds her arms. “Is that what he told you?”

Annie frowns. Jeff is silent beside her, his hands balled into fists, his mouth pressed into a firm line. “It’s none of your business what he told me,” Annie snaps.

“I’m sure you know about the will then.” 

“Will?” She asks, in a small voice.

Sandra smirks. “Fenwick left Stefan almost two million dollars. That sounds like motive to me.”

Annie stares at her hands. She doesn’t know what to say. How could Stefan fail to mention that when they came over? More importantly, how could _Sandra_ know about that and not her?

Jeff breaks the silence. “So I take it you have no alibi for the night of Fenwick’s murder?” He asks.

Sandra shakes her head. “No. No I don’t.”

Jeff sighs and gets to his feet. “Well, I think that covers all our questions, then. Thanks for your time, Sandra.”

“It’s been my pleasure,” Sandra says, rising from her seat. She looks at Annie. “It’s odd, isn’t it? That the men with daddy issues always take so long to open up.”

Jeff inhales sharply next to her.

“When you decide to come clean, let me know.” Sandra says. “I’d love to take the credit.” She walks the two of them to the door and lets them out. “It’s been good to see you, Annie.”

The door closes quietly behind them with a click. 

Annie lets out a long breath as they walk down the steps of Sandra’s house. “Well, that was… enlightening. Are you okay?”

Jeff’s eyebrows pinch together. “I’m fine. Are _you_ okay? You seemed a little rattled in there.”

Annie shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. I just don’t like her. She’s always caused trouble for me at work.” 

“You think she swapped the bullets?” Jeff asks. “Her theory relies on you being guilty and we both know that’s not true.” 

“What’s her motive?” Annie asks. “She has no connection to me _or_ Fenwick.” She sighs. “The only person who does is Stefan.”

“And you’re still not convinced he framed you?”

“I don’t know, Jeff.” Annie says. “I have to talk to him again. Ask him about the will.” 

Jeff nods. “Good idea.”

“I can call him on the drive.”

“The drive?” Jeff asks. He opens the door to her car and gets in. Annie does the same. 

“Yeah,” Annie says. “I thought we could take a trip down to Rancho Santa Fe. I called the resort to request the reservation receipt, but they said their internet is down, so they’ll have to give us the receipts in person.”

Jeff scoffs. “What kind of resort has no internet?”

Annie rolls her eyes and starts the engine. “It’s supposed to be romantic, Jeff. Disconnect to reconnect, that kind of thing.”

Jeff makes a face. 

“It’s fine,” she says. “I can go myself. I just thought it might be nice…”

“Woah, hold on. I’m not about to skip out on a _resort_ to eat buttered noodles and watch Tosh.0 all day long.”

“But you love Tosh.0!” 

“Very much. There’s something about comedians and viral videos I just can’t get enough of." He turns his head. "But you saying?”

“It’s a two hour drive and it’s just going to be a bunch of waiting around. It just seems like a waste of time. I don’t need you to come.”

Annie’s always been bad at hiding her passive aggressiveness, back in the diorama days and even now, but Jeff just rolls his eyes and breaks into a smile that gets her heart jackhammering in her chest, the same way their kiss did the day before. “I rather waste hours with you than spend a second watching Tosh.0.” 

The way he says it, all low and intimate, makes Annie’s stomach flip, but she pretends to be occupied with driving and keeps her expression neutral.

“Good,” Annie says. “Because you don’t have a choice. I already told them we’re coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Buttsoup from the discord server for the Tosh.0 reference.


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the afternoon is… something. 

There are so many unspoken things that need to be said or done, and yet, things remain exactly the way they were before: Jeff desperately trying to push away every feeling and Annie pretending like she doesn’t notice at all.

Jeff’s losing his mind. 

He doesn’t know what he expects. After the light teasing over breakfast and the kiss yesterday, Jeff thought that maybe, just fucking maybe, they were on the same page about their feelings. But since their meeting with Sandra that morning, Annie’s been going about business as usual, and Jeff’s beginning to think he made the entire thing up.

It doesn’t help that they’ve exhausted all of their leads. Annie’s call to Stefan is unsuccessful, because he doesn’t pick up, so they make a note to try him again later. 

The more Jeff thinks about it, the more he’s convinced that Stefan is involved, especially after the meeting with Sandra, but he doesn’t know how. 

They need more information. Like access to Sandra’s financials to look for Fenwick payoffs or the video footage revealing who stole the mayor’s gun. Maybe if he and Annie saw it, they’d be able to identify who the real culprit was. But they weren’t going to get any of that information without a warrant and Jeff had a feeling that Bill wasn’t going to do him a favor _that_ big.

At the very least, they can get the receipts from the resort, have Stefan testify that the funds were wired to Annie exclusively for the family vacation and that Annie didn’t really know who Fenwick was. It has to be enough to prove that the evidence is purely circumstantial.

But what if it’s not enough? What will happen to Annie then? 

The thought of it alone makes Jeff’s chest feel tight. He doesn’t want to think about it. 

It's no secret that Jeff likes the finer things in life-- Burberry button ups, thousand dollar suits, even a gourmet meal every once and awhile. But the resort, when they arrive, is one step beyond fine _._ It’s extravagant. It looks a little bit like the mansion on the Bachelorette. (Jeff’s never seen the show, he swears, he’s only watched one or two recaps on the treadmill at the gym.) 

The resort is over-the-top big. Everything sparkles, including the pavement, where a worker is watering it with a hose so it gleams. 

Reception is just as pretentious, equipped with huge, overly plush couches, stretching from one side of the room to the other, a mahogany wood desk for check-in and a bar on the other side of the room.

Jeff and Annie sit down on one of the couches, to take a moment and talk about their plan for the day, when a man in a red vest approaches them with two glasses of champagne on a tray. “Checking in?” He asks.

“No, we’re-” Annie starts. 

Jeff conjures up his most charming grin. “Yes, we are.” He pats Annie’s hand, as if to say, _“Don’t mess this up for me._ ” and Annie closes her mouth. 

The man nods and places glasses on gold trimmed napkins at the table next to where they’re sitting. “Excellent. You can check in at reception when you’re ready. Please enjoy your stay.”

As soon as he walks away, Annie swats Jeff’s arm. “Jeff! You know we’re not staying.”

Jeff leans in. “I just wanted the free champagne.” he stage-whispers. 

Annie sits back in her chair and rolls her eyes. “We don’t have time for champagne.”

“Would it kill you to take a breather?” Jeff asks. “Alcohol warms the brain, gets the blood flowing. It might help us brainstorm.” 

“I don’t think so.”

“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.” Jeff lifts his champagne glass from the table and clinks it gently to Annie’s, which is still sitting on the table. 

“To free things,” Jeff says.

Annie shakes her head, but smiles with a warmth in her eyes that makes it impossible to turn away. 

Jeff swallows hard and lifts the glass to his lips. God knows he needs the alcohol if he’s going to spend the rest of the afternoon with Annie in a place oozing with starry-eyed lovers and romance.

Annie must be thinking something similar, because she sighs, picks up her champagne glass and downs it in one go.

“Woah,” Jeff says. “When I said take a breather, I didn’t mean you should _inhale_ the drink.”

Annie shakes her shoulders, puffing up her chest like she’s gearing up for a race. “You're right. I need to relax, Jeff,” she says. “You know, go with the flow?” She leans forward and lowers her voice. “Plus, the lady at the front doesn’t seem like she’s in a friendly mood. I need the liquid courage.”

Jeff glances over to the lady in question. She’s wearing a tight scowl, her arms gesturing wildly as she talks to a guest who is starting to look very, very frightened.

Jeff lifts his glass. “To liquid courage,” he says. He finishes his drink. 

Annie swallows and rises from her chair. “Okay. I got this,” she says, muttering to herself. “I called ahead, so there’s nothing to be nervous about. They already have everything ready.” She shakes her hands.

“Yeah,” Jeff agrees. “They told you they had the receipts, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Annie lifts a finger. “I’m just going to go over there and talk to the receptionist and get the receipts and then we can get out of here.” She pauses for a beat, before she frowns. “What if she won’t give them to me, though? Our whole case is riding on this."

“Annie,” Jeff says. “There’s no reason she wouldn’t give you the receipts, or at least a copy of them. You paid for this resort. You’re a valued guest. If they refuse, just threaten to write a bad review. ”

Annie nods. “You’re right. I’m going to go.” She sets her shoulders back and marches away, fierce and determined as ever.

Jeff doesn’t realize he’s smiling as she walks away, until he pulls out his phone and sees his dopey grin reflecting back at him in the black screen of his phone. God, he is pathetic. He clears his throat and glances around to see if anyone else saw it, but everyone else seems to be too busy gazing at each other to notice. It doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s not like he knows anyone here. 

Jeff clicks the screen of his phone and scrolls through until he finds Fruit Ninja. It's been awhile since he's played, and it's satisfying to take himself away from everything for a moment, let the case and all things Annie fade away.

Ten minutes later, he hears Annie’s voice cutting sharply through the reception lobby. “What do you mean, _a few more hours?_ ” She demands. “I called yesterday. You knew I was coming.”

The woman says something to her in a low, placating tone that Jeff can't hear, and Annie grabs a plastic pass from the desk and marches over to where Jeff is sitting.

“Unbelievable,” Annie says. “Apparently, they're hosting a wedding and they're short-staffed, so they haven't been able to check their archives for the receipts.”

Jeff raises an eyebrow. “So we came here for nothing?”

“Not _nothing,”_ Annie says. “If you’re willing to wait a couple hours, she said she’ll take a look. She gave me a dinner voucher.” She waves the plastic pass in her hands with a flourish. 

“A voucher?” Jeff asks, wrinkling his nose. “This doesn’t seem like the type of place that would offer vouchers.” 

Annie sighs. “Well,” she says. “At the very least it means free drinks.”

Jeff perks up at that. Well, at least this won’t be a _complete_ waste of time. 

* * *

Annie’s read somewhere that classical music is supposed to help with focus and concentration. But here, in this overly posh lobby smelling of pine cones, she can’t think properly at all, even through the Mozart that’s playing through the lobby speakers. The notes she’s staring at, written in her notebook, do nothing. Their various squiggles and color-coding stare up at her like they’re complete nonsense. Nothing about this case makes sense.

Jeff must sense her restlessness, because he leans forward and shuts her notebook. 

“Let’s take a walk on the beach,” Jeff says. “It’s close to here. Isn’t it?”

Annie frowns. “Jeff, we can’t. We really need to go over the case.”

“Oh, come on,” Jeff says. “Live a little. You just drove two hours. We can review the case later.”

Annie sighs. She feels dizzy all of a sudden and she blames it on the champagne. It was barely two o’clock when she finished it, and she only ate half her sandwich for lunch, so the drink hits harder than she expects. 

They exit the reception area, following an engraved sign directing them to the beach. It’s a beautiful day. The sky is a rich shade of blue, white fluffy clouds spread across the sky like fingerprint smudges. People are running along the beach in their swimsuits.

“See?” Jeff says, “This is nice.”

“We’re just wasting time,” Annie grumbles.

“Fine,” Jeff says. “Let’s talk about the case.”

“Who do you think did it?”

“Well,” Jeff says. “Sandra’s story basically confirms that Stefan is our guy. He stole your ID, swapped out the bullets, and felt guilty about it later.”

“I don’t know…” Annie says, wrinkling her nose. “Something’s off about Sandra’s story. If Stefan really bribed her, she’d have no problem coming clean to the detective. I think she’s lying.”

“But what about the inheritance?” Jeff asks. “That’s suspicious.”

Annie shakes her head. “I think it’s _more_ suspicious that Sandra knew about it.”

“Okay, so say she did it,” Jeff says. “What’s _her_ motive?”

“Maybe she’s the mole.” Annie says. “Maybe she’s the one that’s been selling evidence to Fenwick and he finally decided he wasn’t settling this one.”

“Good point,” Jeff says. “If only we could take a look at the mayor’s garage footage, then maybe we could identify who the culprit is.”

Annie nods. “You think you could ask Bill to take a second look at it?”

“I’ll try,” Jeff says.

“At the very least, if we can identify male or female, we’ll be able to tell which one of our suspects did it.”

Jeff nods, looking lost in thought. They've walked past all the people on the beach, further along the shore, towards the huge cliffs and rock formations. The waves crash closer to their feet, nearly wetting Annie’s flats. She stops to roll up her pants and slip off her shoes. 

Next to her, Jeff does the same. 

The silence settles comfortably between them. Annie feels almost relaxed, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore soothing her with its cyclic rhythm. They’ve been walking so long now, Annie’s feet are starting to hurt, but she spots a trickle of a waterfall up ahead. It looks beautiful from a distance, rushing water cascading down from the rocks. A little further and they’ll be able to see it up close.   
  


As they near the crashing water, Annie slows her pace. “Did you know,” she says, “I was named after the first woman to go over the Niagara Falls and survive?” 

The waterfall is even more magnificent up close. It’s not strong enough to drown out the sound of her voice, but Annie still wants to run under it, let it soak through all her clothes and shoes and stick to her skin. She imagines her namesake, Annie Edson, falling from the top of the cliff, crashing down to the Earth. She wonders if she was afraid. 

Jeff looks at her, surprised. “I didn’t.”

“She went down in a barrel padded with a mattress. My dad thought it was brave.” Annie says. “I think it was stupid.”

“Why do you think she did it?” Jeff asks.

Annie bites her lip. She’s thought about it her whole life. Wondered if she could find some sort of meaning behind why she was named after someone who was so desperate to chase fame. Someone who tried to make something of herself after everything was taken away. “She lost everything. Her kids, her husband. Maybe she didn’t want to live,” Annie says. “Maybe she went down the falls hoping she wouldn’t survive.”

Jeff frowns. “But she brought the barrel.”

“So?”

“So maybe, she was hoping she would.”

“Or maybe,” Annie muses, “she just needed to make a reckless decision to change her life for good.”

Jeff is quiet for a moment. “Do you think calling me to be your lawyer was a reckless decision?”

“Probably,” Annie admits. “But you're not my Niagara Falls, Jeff.” She meets his eyes. “You're my barrel.”  
  


It’s crowded when they finally sit down for dinner, the clink of silverware and hushed conversations filling the room over the sound of a gentle piano. Classical again, but Annie’s anything but focused. Not with the way she and Jeff are sitting so close, or how good Jeff looks right now, hair tousled from their walk on the beach, his smile just a little softer at this time of night. 

The menu boasts fresh seasonal dishes, using buzzwords like “Coastal Ranch” and “farm-to-table,” but it doesn’t mean much to Annie. She orders pasta.

Jeff gets them a bottle of wine and pours them two tall glasses. 

Annie shakes her head. “I shouldn’t,” she says. “I have to drive.”

“Just have a sip,” Jeff says. “It’s good.” 

She should know better than to listen to the guy who used to defend drunk drivers for a living, but she never could resist a good glass of wine. She takes a sip. The drink lines her stomach with warmth, heat rising to her cheeks, tinging them pink. She reaches up to touch them. 

“I think I got sunburned,” Annie groans. 

Jeff’s looks up from the table, eyes lingering on her face, something so warm and tender in his gaze that Annie feels her skin heat. “It looks good on you.”

“Sure it does,” Annie says. 

The waiter arrives then with their food, pasta for Annie and salmon for Jeff. “Speaking of good looking things. This looks amazing. I’m _starving._ ”

“I’ll bet,” Jeff says. “You only ate half a sandwich.” 

Annie rolls her eyes. “I couldn’t eat. There was too much to think about.” She digs into her food, stabbing the penne with a fork and shoveling it into her mouth. “Oh God. This is _incredible._ ” The sauce is delicious, rich and fresh, with just a tiny kick to it. She coughs. Okay, a little more than tiny. She reaches for her wine again.

They talk for a while longer, and it’s easy, too easy, to jump back into this; it was so difficult to communicate before the kiss, but now? Now, it’s effortless and the way it always used to be. Before Annie even realizes it, they’ve finished the entire bottle of wine, an hour ticking by quickly, easily, covering everything from what their jobs are like, their short term goals, and a story of how Britta tried to cook pasta in a toaster.

“To be fair,” Jeff says through laughter, “she was very wasted.”

Annie puts a hand to her mouth, laughing too. “Still, I don’t think that’s normal. Did you have to throw out the toaster afterwards?”

Jeff nods solemnly. “Unfortunately. It was a waste of a perfectly good toaster.”

Annie picks up her wine glass and finishes the end of it. The taste of it is heady and lowers her inhibitions. She has to bite her lip to stop herself from blurting out something stupid, like how glad she is to have this moment with Jeff, even if it’ll never come again.

“Did I tell you look amazing today?” Jeff asks.

Annie tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Maybe,” she shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Well, you do.”

Annie thinks it’s just the wine talking, because she’s really feeling it too. Her head spinning slightly, her limbs loose with the warmth. Annie squints at Jeff. “I think they tricked us.”

“Who tricked us?” 

“The resort. They knew giving the dinner voucher would make us drunk. Now we _have_ to stay the night.” 

Jeff laughs, his eyes sparkling. He leans in close to rest his hand on top of hers and her heart jumps into her throat. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, would it?”

Annie flips her hand to twine their fingers together. “No,” she says. “Definitely not.”

* * *

They have the receipts ready for Annie when they finally stagger to the front desk. She tucks them into her bag and requests to book separate, but adjacent rooms, because she’s a responsible person. She always has been, even when Jeff can convince her to blow those responsibilities off.

Luckily, there are two rooms available, because two of the wedding guests failed to show up.

Not that Jeff wouldn’t have wanted to share a room - or a bed- with Annie. But he's not that kind of guy anymore. Not with her. They’ve both drunk a significant amount of wine and nothing good can come from sharing a room. Besides, he really can’t afford to screw things up between them at this stage in their investigation. 

But it would be ni-

_God, Jeff, shut the fuck up._

Jeff stares at himself in the bathroom mirror. He’d excused himself to splash cold water on his face, and take a minute to sort through what was coming next. He still isn’t sure.

Jeff washes his hands at the sink. This was a bad idea. He needs to stop thinking immediately. 

When he exits the lobby bathroom, Annie is waiting for him, holding two red key cards and a green bag from the gift shop. “We’re room 404 and 405.”

Jeff nods and takes the card from her. It’s only 8:30, but there’s not much else they can do but check into their rooms. 

“They have pajamas in the gift shop,” she says, holding up a plastic bag. “If you want something to sleep in.”

Jeff shrugs. “I don’t normally sleep in clothes.”

“Oh,” Annie says. Her cheeks are a little flushed, which is kind of cute. 

_Don’t think, don’t think._

They walk back outside, past the expensive honeymooners suites and villas. Building 100 is at the end of the path, stretching up five floors. Annie slides her keycard into the slot to let them in. The door opens easily and they enter into a hallway, lined with red carpet and velvet chairs.

They find their way to the elevator and Jeff pushes the button to get on. The ding of its arrival startles him. Annie giggles at the way he nearly jumps out of his skin, and Jeff rolls his eyes. They both enter the elevator, the silence stretching out between them as the elevator rises.

Jeff’s debating whether he should do the right thing and let Annie go back to her room, or if he should invite her over. Maybe the two of them can break into the minibar and feast on chocolate, maybe drink some more wine. 

It’s a tempting idea, but he knows that once she’s there, any semblance of the boundary they set between them will crumble. It’s already begun, with that stupid kiss in the rain.

When Annie and Jeff finally reach their rooms, they linger awkwardly in the hall, like they both don’t want to say goodbye. 

Jeff clears his throat. “It’s still early,” he says. “We can grab another drink, if you want to.” He’s trying not to invite her in, because he’s not sure she’ll say yes and if she does he’s not sure what he’ll do either. 

But Annie saves him from asking, and shakes her head. “I think I’m good for now.” She yawns. “I’m exhausted. I might turn in early.”

Jeff nods. “Okay. Have a good night.”

Annie takes a breath, slides her key card into her room and then disappears. Jeff stares at the numbers on her door, 404, for just a second, before he snaps out of it and enters into his own room. 

The room’s nice. A king sized bed and a large TV, a clean bathroom and sliding doors that open to a balcony. 

He strips off his clothes, except for his undershirt, and settles on the mattress. It’s surprisingly soft, but still not as comfortable as his bed back home. It’s going to be awhile before he gets back there.

Jeff looks up at the ceiling and thinks about Annie. He wonders what she’s doing in the other room. If she’s watching tv, or showering, or she's shut off the lights and is trying to fall asleep.

Maybe she’s studying her receipts, trying to find some semblance of a clue. Maybe he should be there with her. Trying to figure it out. 

Jeff’s ears prick, attempting to hear any indication of what’s going on in the other room. If she’s still awake. 

There's nothing. 

Maybe Annie’s doing the same thing, laying on her bed, thinking of him too.

Jeff sits up. _Nope. She isn’t. She wouldn’t._ He thinks.

_But maybe she is. She kissed you, after all._

As much as he tries to stop it, Jeff’s brain, buzzed and stupid, is already playing out the scene, Annie sprawled out on her bed, staring at the adjacent door between them, waiting for him to knock on the door. 

Jeff blocks the thought out. He won’t do it. He’s not going to do it. He’ll have a shower instead. He’ll fall asleep alone, watching reruns of The Office, like he always does. 

It’s almost midnight when Jeff hears a knock on his door. 

He swings the door open and Annie’s changed out of the dress she’d been wearing and into an oversized t-shirt. Her feet are bare and the first thing he notices is that her toenails are bright purple. Most of Annie’s makeup’s been scrubbed off and her hair falls loose, damp around her shoulders. Her skin looks pink and clean and soft.

There’s no logical explanation for how dry Jeff’s throat feels. 

“Oh good, you’re up.” Annie says. 

Jeff swallows and forces words to come out. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Yeah,” Annie says. She shivers. “The AC won't turn off in my room. Do you mind if I warm up in here for a bit?”

Jeff frowns. “Want me to take a look at it?”

Annie shakes her head. “I’ve tried everything to fix it and I don’t want to bother anyone. It’ll only be for a bit. I’ll go back to sleep in fifteen minutes.”

Jeff clears his throat and steps back into the room. “‘I’m just watching The Office. Come on in.”

Annie nods. There’s no couch so she settles onto his bed, tucking herself under the covers on the right, leaving him room to take the seat beside her. 

It’s dangerous to have her next to him in bed, so he leaves a significant space between them. The boundary comforts him, and oddly enough, it seems to bring them closer. 

They talk about their favorite TV shows and the books they’ve read and what they really think of psychics. Who has had a reading done? Who believes in them? What about horoscopes? Does Jeff even _know_ what his horoscope is? Okay, she’ll look it up for him using her mobile hotspot (because the Internet is still down.) 

“You’re a Scorpio!” Annie announces triumphantly. “Secretive, jealous, obsessive…” she trails off. “What? Scorpio and Saggitarius’s compatibility is only 25%?” She frowns. 

Jeff laughs and tells her that they have to stop being friends now. He gets a major swat on the arm for that. 

Annie’s good company. It’s not surprising to him, he’s always enjoyed his time with her, but this time it’s not weird. There’s no anxious, lingering tension. They feel like _friends_ again and Jeff regrets not asking her to come over earlier. 

“Was Sandra right?” Jeff suddenly blurts out, before his brain can catch up to his mouth. “Were you thinking about me, the night Fenwick was killed?”

Annie falls silent. Jeff thinks he went too far, tiptoeing past the invisible boundaries of things they should and shouldn’t talk about. He wants to take back the words. 

He doesn’t. 

“Yes.”

Jeff swallows. Licks his lips. “And what about the other thing?” He asks. His voice sounds too loud in the room, even to his own ears. “About being in love with me?”

Annie looks down at her hands. There’s a beat of tense silence. 

“That’s true too.”

Jeff stares at her. He can’t even breathe, can’t even function now. He’s not even sure what to do with this information because it’s everything he’s been wanting to hear for so long.

“Jeff?” Annie asks. Her voice sounds so small. “Say something? Please.”

Jeff doesn’t say anything. He kisses her instead.

Annie’s mouth goes slack against his, the tension melting out of her shoulders. She fists her hand in the front of his t-shirt and yanks him forward, yanks him closer, and it’s slow but it’s urgent; and her head falls back against the pillows with a thump, rattling the wooden headboards. 

Annie knows how to work him, with the cushion of her lips and the slide of tongue, her body pulled tightly to his. She tastes like spearmint toothpaste and he wants- he _wants-_

Annie releases him. “Wait,” she gasps, “You didn't say anything. Do you-?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jeff asks. 

He looks at her- at her face, flushed pink from the sun, her hair a little mussed from where she fell back against the pillows, her blue eyes are enormous, looking up at him, bright and expectant. A little afraid.

He cups her jaw. Traces his thumb along the curve of her lower lip, warm and soft.

“I love you too,” he says simply, and then kisses her.

Again.

And again.

And again.

* * *

Early the next morning, Jeff slips out of bed, careful not to wake Annie as he looks for the keys to the car. She’ll probably be hungover, so he can drive back, since he feels so good about last night he can probably run a marathon. (Probably being the key word, he’s not actually going to do it, not anytime soon.) It’s not in his jacket pocket or on the table, so he twists the knob to their shared door and sneaks into Annie’s room. He furrows his brows, concentrating, before remembering Annie putting it into her purse after dinner. 

He spots them on the desk, next to her charging phone, and picks them up.

As he turns to leave the room, something catches his eye. It’s the AC. Curious, Jeff presses a finger to the on/off button. It shuts off immediately.

Well.

Jeff smiles the whole way back to his room.


	8. Chapter 8

Back at home, Annie sits at the counter in the kitchen, relieved to have her receipts in hand.

She’s been downright _giddy_ since she’s returned from the resort, so much so that even Troy gets irritated with her constant humming and threatens to play Daybreak on repeat until she stops. 

Her best chance of distracting herself is obsessing about the case. 

Annie scribbles in her notebook. She writes down her suspects, the stories they’ve told her and their possible motives. It’s soothing to write everything down that’s been swirling around in her brain for the past few days.

Annie’s called Stefan three times since she’s gotten home, requesting to talk, but he hasn’t answered at all. On the way home, Jeff drove past his place, to see if he was home, but his car wasn’t in the driveway. Annie wonders if he’s on vacation somewhere, spending his $2 million dollar bequeathment. She’s never thought of him as someone who was motivated by money, but she knows she didn’t date Stefan long enough to really see his true colors. 

Annie writes notes for nearly twenty minutes before Jeff walks into the kitchen, slumping into the seat next to her.

“Bill did some more digging.” Jeff says. “There were reports of a third gunshot the night of the murder, but the bullet was never recovered near Fenwick’s body.”

Annie bites her lip. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means there's a bullet that hasn’t been switched somewhere. And the murderer doesn't know they’re looking for it.”

Annie frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Only Bill and Gary know, and now us. If they can find the bullet, they can figure out whose gun it came from.” 

“Great. That’s going to take forever.” Annie’s pout is pure frustration, but then her face brightens. “Wait. I have an idea.” 

“Should I ask?”

“No.” Annie says, with a gleam in her eyes. “Just call Bill back. I’ll take care of the rest.”

* * *

Jeff knows that his relationship with Annie is far from ordinary, but when she asks him if he wants to go out at midnight, holding a handgun case in her hands, he knows he has some reason to be concerned. 

Annie’s leaning against his door, her brown hair tucked behind one ear, dressed in a fitted black jacket, a blouse and leather jeans. Jeff swallows at the sight of her. Annie grins. It’s a smug grin, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him, appearing in his bedroom at this time of night.

“Is this the part where you kill me and hide my body in the woods?”

Annie scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jeff. I’m not going to kill you.”

Jeff rises from his bed and strides over to her. He pulls her in close by the loops of her jeans. “I don’t know,” he says, “it might be too late for that.”

Annie raises a brow. “How so?”

Jeff looks her up and down. “If looks could kill, then I don’t stand a chance.” 

Annie laughs and leans into him. “I think it’s ‘If looks could kill, you’d be a weapon of mass destruction.’”

“Four years out of Greendale and now you’re the pick-up line expert?”

Annie shrugs coyly. “I’ve heard a few over the years. You know, I had many suitors, back in the day.”

“ _Suitors,”_ Jeff says mockingly. “What are you, 80?”

Annie smiles. “Something like that.” She shifts her weight and puts her hands on her hips. “So, are you ready to go?”

“Depends. Where are we going?”

“I’d tell you, but you’re not going to like it.”

Jeff shrugs. “Try me.”

“We’re going... to the woods.”

Jeff groans. He really hopes death is not on the table tonight.

Annie insists on staying in the car when they arrive. There’s no destination. Just a side street next to the woods, a block over from a 7/11 and a gas station. The dashboard clock ticks to 12:30 AM and the silence of the night settles over them as Annie turns off the car. Jeff’s never really loved the dark, or the quiet, not unless he’s paid a ridiculous amount of money for floatation therapy, where he knows he’s secure, floating in saltwater, immersed in controlled darkness.

He’s waiting for Annie to get out of the car, pick up her purse, _something_ , but she just sits there, staring out the window, not speaking. 

Jeff blinks. “Annie, why are we here.”

“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise you won’t be mad.”

“I can’t promise anything if I don’t know what it is,” Jeff says. 

“Fine,” Annie sighs. “So I talked to Bill and suggested that he get in contact with the department and send out a message that they’re looking for the bullet.”

Jeff's smile goes stiff. “And why would you do that?”

“If the killer knows we’re looking for the third bullet, they’ll be desperate to get it back. And when they retrieve it from the crime scene, we’ll see who it is.” 

Jeff makes a face. “Who would be stupid enough to do that?”

“It’s not about being stupid, Jeff. It’s about being _desperate._ They’ll try to involve themselves in the investigation somehow and help with the search for the bullet.”

“Okay, but that still doesn’t explain why _we’re_ here.” Jeff says, waving his hand around. 

“We’re here because none of our suspects involved themselves in the investigation today.” Annie says, crossing her arms. 

“And?” Jeff asks.

“And Gary and Bill don’t have enough patrol to watch the crime scene after hours. They stopped surveilling after midnight.”

“So...?”

“Sotheydontknowwerehere,” Annie mumbles.

Jeff lifts a single eyebrow. “What?”

Annie clears her throat and sits up straighter in her chair. “So they don’t know we’re here.”

Jeff has to blink twice so his eyes refocus in the dim lighting of the car. He stares intently at Annie. “Let me get this straight. You drove to a _crime scene_ in _the middle of the night_ so that we can catch an _experienced murderer,_ with little to no combat experience and an unused firearm?”

Annie grimaces. “Yes?”

Jeff shakes his head, huffing out a laugh. “God, when I pictured our first date, this was nowhere near what I had in mind.”

Annie’s shoulders sag with relief. “So you’re not mad?”

“No, I’m just.” Jeff takes a deep breath. “Concerned. Do you have a plan for when our suspect shows up?”

Annie rolls her eyes. “Really, Jeff? When have I ever _not_ had a plan?”

“Right,” Jeff says. “I forgot who I was talking to...”

Annie leans over to his side of the car and props an elbow on the center console, resting her face on her hand. “Speaking of plans. What _did_ you have in mind for our first date?”

Jeff smiles and his hands slide up to cup Annie’s jaw, leaning forward to kiss her without warning. Annie’s hands fall against his chest, her mouth opening for him immediately. 

“I was thinking a little something like that,” he whispers. 

The rest of the night, put simply, is boring as hell. In TV shows, there is always something going on to make the stakeouts more exciting. A budding romance, or some work drama, maybe some movement in the night. But as Jeff and Annie sit in the car, there is absolutely nothing. Annie sits perched on the edge of her seat, looking out the window, while Jeff leans his face against the head rest. His eyes droop closed, his body heavy and exhausted from the stress of the week. It's not long until he gives in and finally falls asleep.

“Jeff,” Annie murmurs. “Jeff, wake up.”

Jeff groans in response, eyes still closed. 

Annie leans over to press a warm kiss to his cheek, her hand resting on his bicep, squeezing. “Jeff.”

Jeff opens one eye. “Did you catch the murderer yet,” he asks, voice scratchy.

“No,” Annie frowns. “I don’t think they’re coming. I’m going to take a look outside.”

Jeff opens both eyes and sits up straighter in his chair. His neck hurts like hell. “You’re what?”

“Going to take a look outside. If they’re not here, then I might as well find the bullet myself.”

Jeff clears his throat. “Have you forgotten the part where it’s _pitch black_ outside?”

“I’ve studied the bullet trajectory, Jeff. I can find where the bullet is with my eyes closed.” 

Jeff shakes his head. “I’m not even going to ask.” 

Annie drums her fingers on the steering wheel. “I’ll have my phone on me, so you can just call me if you hear someone coming.” 

Jeff shakes his head. “No. We can look for the bullet tomorrow in daylight, when there aren’t murderers lurking around.”

Annie glares at him. “You really think that they’ll let a _suspected bullet thief_ search for bullets on a crime scene?” 

“Well, they already let one in on half of their investigation,” Jeff inisists. 

“That’s different,” Annie says. “Bill is doing it as a favor to you and it’s under the table. He can only get away with so much.” She lets out a breath. “It’s just so frustrating. They don’t understand ballistics like I do, so they'll never find the bullet. I’ve studied this. I know exactly where the bullet is.”

“That means Sandra would too.”

“Well, she's not here,” Annie says. She shrugs. “Maybe the murderer is Stefan.” She reaches over Jeff's legs to open the glove compartment. “If it’ll make you feel better, I can take my gun.” 

Jeff grabs her arm. “Annie, no. We’re not even supposed to be out here. The point of a stakeout is to sit and wait for something to happen, not get out of the car and beg danger to come to _us_.”

Annie raises her eyebrows. 

“Look. I want to know the truth as much as you do, but this is too risky. I’ll tip Bill off about the bullet location tomorrow. We’re not getting out of the car.” His voice takes on the severe tone he usually reserves for recalcitrant clients. 

Annie blinks at him, saying nothing. 

“What?” Jeff asks eventually, not sure what to make of her expression.

“You’re always so protective.” 

Jeff releases her arm, his gaze darting away from her. “Well someone has to be, when you're acting like you're She-Hulk or something.”

Annie grins. “I'll take the compliment.”

“It's not a compliment, Annie... You're not invincible.” Jeff says. 

“I know that,” she says. “And I appreciate you looking out for me, because honestly, no one ever has, but I know what I can handle.”

“I never said you didn't,” he says evenly. “It’s just.” He sucks in his cheeks. “Keeping you here is more for my own benefit than anything else.”

Annie squints. “What do you mean?”

Jeff tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I can't lose you.”

“Jeff,” she says softly. “It’ll be fine. It’s going to be ten minutes, max. Then I’ll be right back.”

Jeff shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant. I mean it is, but it’s more than that. I can’t lose you, if this case really goes the way we think it’s going to go.”

Annie gives him a weak smile. She takes one of his hands and gives it a squeeze. “You’ll be fine without me. You were fine before all of this.”

The mere mention of _before_ feels like a slap in the face, those simple syllables bringing back memories of the emptiness he felt inside, coming home to a silent apartment, as though nothing had ever really changed.

“And what about you?”

Annie bites her lip. She hesitates and Jeff can see the worry in her eyes. “I'll... be fine too.”

Jeff looks down at his lap, at their hands twined together, and it’s all so loving and intimate that he can’t take it. “Annie, fine isn't good enough anymore.” 

Annie drops Jeff’s hand and drags her hand up the nape of Jeff’s neck. “Then let me do something about it.” 

Jeff swallows hard. Desperate times call for desperate measures, right? He nods. For the second time, he makes the decision he knows he’ll later regret. 

He lets her go. 

* * *

The snap of the twigs beneath Annie’s boots isn't exactly subtle, so she checks her surroundings one more time to make sure that there's no one watching her. The night is silent, the only sound the quiet humming of insects. She takes a deep breath, before glancing back at the car. Through the windshield, where she can see Jeff staring at her intently, his mouth pressed in a worried grimace.

Annie knows the risk of what she's doing. There are a million ways this night could go wrong. She could run into Sandra or Stefan, she could end up being wrong about the bullet, or a patrol could spot her at the crime scene. But if she finds that bullet, the reward is so much greater. That bullet could give her her freedom and the future that she and Jeff deserve. 

Annie walks towards the trees, moving slowly, careful not to make a sound. She knows if she walks in a straight line from the car, she’ll reach the trees near where the bullet could have fallen. Annie hurries ahead and manages to make it there in a couple of minutes, the car still in her line of sight. She glances around her to check for movement or for any indication that someone is watching her. There's nothing. Annie slides her fingers over the tree bark of one of the trees, feeling for any sign of an abnormality in the trunk.

There's a little notch in the bark. She points her finger through the notch and drops straight down in the direction of the ground. If she’s right, the bullet should have dropped two feet away. Annie takes a few steps forward and drops into a crouch. She clicks on her phone flashlight.

The underbrush beneath her feet is green and mossy, but there's a very obvious bulge sticking out from one of the leaves. Her heartbeat quickens in her chest. It has to be the bullet!

Annie reaches into her pocket and pulls out her gloves. She tugs on the bulge to reveal the bullet, gleaming a dark silver in the light of her phone, and she wraps it safely into the palm of the glove, as to not disturb any of the possible evidence. She tucks the glove-wrapped bullet back into her pocket.

There’s a scuffling sound behind her, and she whips her head around, trying to spot where the noise is coming from. There’s nothing but the shadowy figures of the trees. It was probably just an animal or…

Annie shudders. She doesn't really want to think about what else-- or who else-- is out there with her in the woods. A man had once died there, afterall. Annie swallows hard. Now that her mission is completed, she wants to get back to the car as soon as possible.

When she arrives, Jeff unlocks the car and she slides into the driver’s seat, breathless.

“So?” he asks. “Did you find it?”

Annie nods. She reaches into her jacket and pulls out the glove. “It's in here.”

Jeff shakes his head at her, grinning. “You're unbelievable.” 

“I told you I knew where it was.”

“And to think they’d spend days looking for it,” Jeff says. He holds a hand out. “If you hand it over, I'll give it to Bill tomorrow. He can pretend he found it himself.”

“Good idea,” Annie says and places the glove in his grasp, watching with tired eyes as he tucks it into his jacket.

“So now that we got the bullet, can we go home now?” 

Annie scoffs. “Of course not. The bullet is an almost guaranteed win, but we have to keep watch until 6 AM. I want to see if anyone will actually show up.”

Jeff drops his head back against the seat and groans.

Somewhere around 4:30 AM, Annie feels her eyes start to droop closed. The adrenaline she felt from retrieving the bullet had worn off and faded into exhaustion. But she’s not going to give up, not when they have two hours left. She glances over at Jeff. His eyes are starting to close again.

“Tired?” she asks softly. 

Jeff nods. “Exhausted. I think there’s a 7/11 that’s open around the corner. I can go grab us some coffees.”

“Great,” she says. “One-”

Jeff waves a hand. “One cream, four sugars, I know.”

“You know?”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve watched you make your coffee for the past week. I think I know what you like by now.”

Annie can’t help the smile that spreads across her face.

“What?” Jeff asks, shifting in his seat. He looks so, well, _adorable,_ with the shy and uncomfortable look on his face. “Stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not.” Annie bumps him playfully with her shoulder, eliciting a half-grin from Jeff, his bottom lip tucked under the white crescent of his teeth.

“Four sugars is a little gross, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from the woman who drinks appletinis.”

It’s Annie’s turn to roll her eyes. “I drink Scotch too.”

Jeff raises an eyebrow. “And you like it?”

Annie bites her lip. “Well… no. But still.”

Jeff laughs and quietly opens the car door. “I’ll be right back. Be careful, alright?”

Annie nods. Jeff’s so quiet she can barely hear his footsteps receding as he walks in the opposite direction, towards the 7/11, and Annie is left alone.

Annie listens for any sign of life, the rustle of leaves, the sound of footsteps, but there is only silence. She yawns, feeling her eyes droop, and her body slowly fading away. 

Annie pinches herself hard. And that’s when she sees it. A flash of something moving, shiny in the darkness.

Annie squints. She can’t see anything from where she’s sitting in the car, but there’s definitely someone out there. She opens her car door quietly and takes a step, her foot snapping a twig next to the curb.

“Crap,” she murmurs. She creeps closer, further into the trees, her heart pounding in her chest. She considers her gun, sitting in the glovebox of her car, but she’s more concerned about who this person is, rather than if they can kill her or not. She’ll be alright, as long as she stays hidden.

Annie ventures further into the trees and sees something flicker on the ground a few steps ahead. She drops into a crouch and picks up the shiny object. It's not another bullet, but a compact mirror. She can barely make out her face in the reflection, before a shadow flickers across the shiny surface. 

Annie whips around just in time to dodge the gleam of a knife, tucked unobtrusively into her assailant’s hand. Rounded fingers, gleaming nails. 

Annie scrambles back quickly and lunges towards her assailant, making a grab for the right arm- the one that holds the knife. 

Her attacker moves swiftly, clearly well-trained. A fist drives towards Annie’s stomach and she twists an arm to block it, seizing the person by the wrist. The movement catches Annie off guard and at this angle, she can’t wrench the knife free. The best she can do is force the blade away from herself, as far from her chest as she can muster. 

The attacker’s left arm swings towards Annie’s face and Annie lifts an arm to block it. It works, but only for a moment, before the assailant seizes Annie’s shoulder and pushes her down, hooking a heel around her leg to trip her.

Annie breaths out quickly, careful to release her air before she’s winded. Pain flares along Annie’s shoulder as she hits the ground, but she’s more concerned with the sudden burning feeling that’s sliced along her thigh, just above the knee. 

The knife must have snagged her.

Annie gasps, desperate to wrench her assailant off of her. She grabs a fist full of hair and drags the attacker to the left. They’re stronger than Annie and they barely budge, grunting in pain as Annie tightens her fingers in their hair. The attacker flips Annie onto her back and hooks her neck into the crook of their elbow, pulling their arm tight against her chest.

The sudden, suffocating pressure on Annie’s windpipe is terrifying. She tries not to panic. All she needs to do is jab her fingers in the spot between the attacker’s collar bones and-

She doesn’t get the chance to. Her body feels so heavy. It’s hard to move. Annie makes one final attempt to jab her attacker, but her arm falls limply at her side before if all fades to black.

* * *

When Jeff returns with coffee, he opens the car to find an empty driver’s seat. His mouth feels dry. He shouldn't have left her alone. He glances around the car and into the wooded area, but there’s no sign of her anywhere. Jeff frowns. Maybe Annie left him a message. He pulls out his phone and sees a missed call. It’s not from Annie. 

“ _Hey Jeff, it’s Bill. I looked into the footage from Fenwick’s garage. Where his gun was stolen? Yeah. Based solely on appearances, the perp looks like a woman.”_

Jeff’s heart drops into his stomach. _Sandra._ He needs to tell Annie. Frantically, he drops the coffee he’s holding into the cupholders. Coffee spills over the center console, but Jeff can’t think about cleaning it up. He reaches into the car and checks the glove box. 

Annie’s gun is still there, along with her keys.

Jeff takes a deep breath. He quickly dials her number with as much efficiency as he can muster.

 _There’s nothing to worry about,_ he thinks. _Annie probably just went to find a bathroom. She’ll be back in a few minutes. Everything’s going to be okay._

His phone is immediately sent to voicemail. 

What if something had happened when he’d been buying the coffee? What if someone had taken Annie? 

Jeff shakes the thought away and dials Abed. He’s sure that Abed has her location, whether through her phone’s GPS or some creepy location on her body. (Jeff’s gone to the doctor several times insisting there’s a GPS chip in his body, but instead of X-Rays, all he’s gotten are referrals to see a shrink.)

Considering what time it is, Jeff’s surprised when his call is picked up on the second ring.

“Annie’s missing,” Jeff says, instead of hello. “Do you still have everyone’s location?”

“Missing?” Abed asks. “How is she missing? Has she been kidnapped? Where did you lose her? Are you-”

“Abed,” Jeff says, running a hand through his hair. “We don’t have time for this. Can you look up her location?”

The line goes quiet for a minute and Jeff hears tapping on the screen. 

“She’s in Glendale. I’ll text you the address.” 

“Glendale?” Jeff asks, breathless. He swallows the panic that’s rising in his throat. If she’s in Glendale, someone had to have taken her. “I have to go.” 

“Jeff, in the movies, the man rushes heroically to save the woman he loves, but if Annie’s really been kidnapped, call the police. Community college paintball doesn’t count as real combat experience. You can’t take this person on alone.” 

Jeff swallows. He knows Abed’s right. This isn’t a Kickpuncher movie. He can’t show up with a gun and swoop in to save Annie and live happily ever after. He doesn’t even know how to hold a gun. He has to call Bill. “Got it. Thanks, Abed.”

“Troy and I will meet you there.” Abed says. The line goes silent.

A second later, his phone pings with the address. He texts it to Bill and starts the car, dialling him as he drives. 

“Hello?” Bill asks, his voice groggy. “Jeff, why are you calling me so early?”

“We have a situation. Annie and I were surveilling the crime scene, where the third bullet was lost, but I came back from getting us coffee and she’s gone. I think she’s been taken by Fenwick’s killer.”

“Jesus Christ.” Bill mutters. “I told her not to go out there without backup.”

Jeff takes a shaky breath. He can barely hear Bill, over the sound of his heartbeat thrashing in his ears. “I texted you the address. Please, Bill. You’re the only chance she has right now.”

Bill tells him he’s calling it into the station, that he’ll be there in five and hangs up. It lifts a little weight off of Jeff’s chest, but his body still feels tight, like he can’t breathe. 

He shouldn’t have left Annie. If he loses her over a cup of coffee, he’ll never be able to forgive himself. Jeff knows he’s over-anxious, sleep-deprived, and probably a danger to everyone on the road, but he drives anyway. 

He can’t relax until he knows Annie is okay. 

* * *

When Annie wakes up, she feels so exhausted and weak that she’s tempted to fall right back into unconsciousness. But she’s disoriented and has no idea where she is, so she forces herself to keep her eyes open and try to figure out a way out of her current situation.

The room she’s in has plaster walls, painted in peach and a single door. There’s a window on the opposite wall, but it’s too dark to tell what’s going on out there from where she is laying. Annie’s hands and feet are bound together tightly with duct tape, like someone had tied her up in a hurry. She's laid down on worn, filthy mattress. Her leg aches, a shooting pain that spreads all the way up her spine, and she sees an angry red gash where her trousers were torn from the slash of a knife. 

Annie tenses as she hears the clacking of footsteps down the hall. She knows she’s lucky to even be alive, but her luck is going to run out soon if she doesn’t find a way out of there fast. 

“Hello, Annie,” A familiar voice says, stepping into the light. “How are you feeling?”

Annie gasps. It’s Sandra. Her dark hair curled around her face like a lion’s mane, wild and unruly, the shadows falling on her face, giving her more of a haggard appearance than Annie is used to seeing. 

“What’s wrong? Have I really rendered you speechless?” She laughs and steps forward to rip the duct tape off of Annie’s mouth. “Oh, silly me. Your mouth was covered.”

Annie scowls. “What do you want, Sandra?”

Sandra grins again. “Oh, I’m sure that can wait until that lawyer of yours arrives.”

Annie keeps her face purposefully blank. “Jeff doesn’t know where I am. I came alone.”

“Don’t be stupid, Annie. You really think I didn’t see him leave your car?” Sandra glances at her watch. “He’ll be joining us in...hm. Fifteen minutes?”

Annie’s heart began to pound wildly in her chest. “No. He won’t know where to find me.”

Sandra shakes her head and smiles. “He will.” She taps her temple. “Psychic, remember?”

Annie bites her lip. When she had called Jeff from jail, he had dropped everything to come and help her, logic be damned. If he knew she was kidnapped, he’d stop at nothing to come find her, she knew for sure, even risk his own life to save hers. 

She can’t have that. She needs to get out of here. Annie struggles with her binds, attempting to get them to loosen. She can use her teeth to break the tape. If only Sandra would turn away.

“What do you want with him, Sandra?”

Sandra crosses her arms over her chest. “I want the bullet.”

“ _I_ have the bullet.” Annie insists. “I was the one who found it.”

“Bullshit. I searched you-”

“You _searched_ me?”

Sandra raises an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. “I’ve already killed a man and kidnapped you, you really think I’m the type of person who asks permission before searching someone?”

Annie presses her mouth together and says nothing. 

“I have a question for you, Annie." Sandra's smile vanishes and twists into contempt. “Who do you want to die today? You or the one you love? Which is more painful, to die or be the one left behind?” 

Annie grits her teeth together. “That was three questions.”

Sandra steps forward, and it’s only then that Annie sees the gleam of Sandra's knife pressed into her white-knuckled grasp. “Shut up,” Sandra growls. “Tell me, Annie. How much do you really love him?”

Annie’s jaw tightens. “I don’t.”

Sandra’s eyes narrow and Annie stares back, blinking at her in what she hopes is defiance. If she can convince Sandra that Jeff is just her lawyer, maybe she’d have no reason to kill him. Annie could get the bullet from him and this would all be over.

“Oh, very good Annie. I was almost convinced.” She laughs, a loud, shrill noise that echoes against the walls. “But don’t quit your day job.” She purses her lips. “Oh wait. You don’t have one anymore.”

Annie presses her lips together. She wants to scream at Sandra, tell her how badly she wants her to go jump off a bridge. But she knows antagonizing your captor is never a smart idea. 

“I had them all fooled,” Sandra says. “The murder by the mayor, the bullet swapping connected to you. It was a flawless plan, until I heard there was a missing third bullet. They would’ve connected it to my gun, and we couldn’t have that, could we?” she says. “I had to find it.”

Annie scoffs. “You were too slow. I'm on trial and even I knew about it before you."

Sandra’s eyes flash in fury and realization. “You called the patrols and made the detectives tell me about the bullet.”

Annie smiles sweetly. “It’s nice to have friends on the inside, isn’t it, Sandra?”

Sandra scowls. 

“I bet if they pulled up your finances, they’d find all of the Fenwick settlements,” Annie says. “I bet that you’re the mole in the LAPD and you sold all the evidence to Fenwick.”

“I needed the money for my daughter’s college tuition.” Sandra's eyes darken. “And this was supposed to be my last one. The mayor was loaded! Imagine the pay off he would’ve given Ronald and I! But he wouldn’t settle the case. He said the mayor was a violent man and everyone deserved to know the truth.”

Annie narrows her eyes. “And that’s why you had to kill him. Because he’d reveal that you were the source of the video in court and you’d be exposed as the LAPD mole.”

Sandra's jaw tightens and it’s the confirmation that Annie needs to know she’s right. Sandra paces back and forth in front of her. “We got sidetracked. We were talking about my plan for you and your lawyer.”

“You’re not killing anyone, Sandra.” 

Sandra ignores her. “I see the way you two look at each other. Like the sun rises and sets every time you two lock eyes.” She brandishes her knife, the tip red from where it’d sunk into Annie’s leg. “I just wonder who would suffer the most, hearing the one they love die.”

“Enough theatrics, Sandra. Just let me go!”

“If only it were that easy.” Headlights shine in through the window. Sandra smiles slowly. “Would you look at that? He’s here.” 

Annie’s praying that Jeff knows better than to try and save her. She hopes that he found the gun or notified the authorities or something, besides rushing in heart first, trying to be a hero. She doesn’t want to take any chances.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll get you the bullet. You can take me to retrieve it from him yourself. Just leave Jeff alone.” She swallows. “ _Please._ ”

Sandra laughs. “It’s too late. He’s already coming in, bringing everything I want.”

Annie hears a car door slam and Sandra’s grin widens. She walks to the window and stares outside into the night. “I wonder if he’ll scream like Fenwick,” she murmurs. “Or cry like a baby.” 

Annie struggles with her restraints, desperately trying to get loose. Sandra’s not looking anymore, so she’s able to bring the tape to her teeth and tear, a small rip forming down the middle. It’s enough to pull it apart, but only at the right time. 

Footsteps are heard in the hallway and Sandra turns to face Annie again. She strides to Annie’s bedside. She leans over Annie and puts the blade next to the curve of her cheek. 

“Annie?” A male voice calls, echoing in the hall. Dread settles in Annie’s stomach, like she’s swallowed a bowl full of lead. She needs to act. Soon. 

Sandra puts her lips next to Annie’s ear and whispers. “Oh honey. It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.” 

The close proximity is enough. Annie springs into action. She jerks upwards and smashes the top of her head into Sandra’s nose and mouth. 

Sandra screams and drops the knife on the bed as her hands fly up to clutch her bleeding face. 

Annie tears her hands through the duct tape and grasps Sandra’s knife. Sandra lunges for her again, but Annie is too quick. She sits up, blocking Sandra’s body with an arm and pressing the cool blade to Sandra’s neck.

“Don’t move.” Annie demands. 

Sandra narrows her eyes. “You wouldn’t.” 

The door bursts open then, with Bill in the lead of five other policemen equipped with flashlights and guns. 

Sandra sags in Annie’s arms, defeated.

Annie lowers her lips to Sandra's ear. "Bet you didn't predict that one, you psychotic bitch."

Everything goes blurry after that. They take Sandra away in handcuffs, but Annie doesn’t move from her position on the bed, fingers squeezing the handle of the knife tightly, turning her knuckles white. 

It’s only when Bill wrenches it from her grasp and frees her from the restraints that she lets herself relax, breathing in through her nose, slow and deep. She’s acutely aware of how much pain she’s in. Adrenaline had pushed the discomfort to the back of her mind, but now, she’s filled with aches, her ankles and wrists bruised, the cut on her leg tacky with blood. 

“Annie,” Bill says. He drops down next to her on the bed. “Are…” He trails off when he sees the cut on her thigh. “Shit.” he says, “We need to get you to an ambulance.”

Annie shakes her head, finally snapping out of it. “I’m fine,” she says brusquely. She stands up and tries not to wince, the wound in her leg throbbing as she puts weight onto it. “It looks worse than it is.” 

“I doubt that.” Bill says. “It’s a nasty cut.” Bill offers her his arm, but she shrugs it off. She doesn’t want the sympathy right now, she just wants to get the hell out of there and forget everything that’s happened. 

It’s only when she gets outside again, the night breeze cool against her cheeks, that she finally realizes that she’s free. If they caught Sandra, then Annie’s charges had to be dropped. She blows out a breath of air, relief bubbling up beneath her numb bewilderment. 

And then she notices three figures standing at the edge of the clearing. Abed, Troy and Jeff, staring at her with mixed expressions of confused, frightened and panicked. Her eyes meet Jeff’s and she bites her lip, he looks like he’s desperately trying to hold himself together. 

Annie approaches them. “How did you find me?” she asks breathlessly. 

“I told you the GPS tracking would come in handy one day.” Abed says.

Annie smiles and shakes her head. Leave it to Abed to say “I told you so,” after she’d just escaped within an inch of her life. “I hope we never have to use it again.”

“Are you okay?” Troy asks. “You have no idea how worried we were about you. Jeff nearly passed out, waiting for you out here.”

“I did not,” Jeff mutters weakly. 

“I’m okay,” Annie murmurs. “Just a couple bruises and a cut. It’s actually not as-” 

Her sentence is cut off by a shudder. She sucks in air through her teeth and shivers, wrapping her arms around herself. She’s definitely going into shock now.

Jeff takes a step forward, his hand outstretched, with a face as raw as Annie had ever seen it. She swallows.

“Do you guys mind if I sit down?” Annie asks. She doesn’t wait for their reply and plops down on the grass, cross legged. When she looks up, Jeff is offering her a jacket, sliding the coat over her shoulders before she can even decide if she wants it. She meets his eyes and smiles gratefully, but Jeff drops his gaze and does not look at her. 

“The ambulance will be here soon,” he says. He slides down next to her on the ground and offers her his shoulder. She slouches against him, teeth chattering, doing her best to soak in Jeff’s warmth.

“I'm sorry,” Jeff says. “I shouldn't have left you.”

Annie shakes her head. “It’s okay, Jeff. It’s not your fault.”

“No. It’s not okay. She could have _killed_ you.”

Annie bites her lip. Her shudders have subsided, and her voice is steady when she says, “And if you'd been there, she could've killed you too.”

"Why?" 

"You had the bullet," Annie whispers. "It's what she wanted."

“Well, you can thank Abed for holding me back,” Jeff murmurs. “He reminded me I’m no hero.”

She puts her hand over Jeff’s and twines their fingers together. “He’s right,” she teases. “You’re just a boring lawyer.” 

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Wow. One summer with the FBI and suddenly you're the exciting one. Saving the day, fighting bad guys.” 

Annie laughs. “You know I've always had it in me.”

Jeff shakes his head, but he's smiling. He presses a kiss to the top of her head.

They sit in silence, for a little while. Before Annie can stop herself, a wide grin is spreading across her face. 

“Um," Jeff says. "Is unexplained joy a symptom of shock? Because you're kind of creeping me out right now."

“It's just incredible, Jeff,” Annie says, peering up at Jeff through her eyelashes, knowing perfectly well that she looks like a lunatic. “I’m free,” she breathes. “We won the case.” She bites her lips to tamp down on the hysterical laughter that’s threatening to spill out. 

Jeff smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He squeezes her shoulders, pressing closer to her and huffs a laugh. “We did, didn’t we?”

Annie nods. She hesitates for a moment, before reaching a hand up to cup Jeff’s face. As the blue and red lights of the ambulance flash into the clearing, she pulls him in for the sweetest, most celebratory kiss she can muster.

She’s going to be alright. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! There will probably just be an epilogue after this one.


	9. Chapter 9

“I look ridiculous,” Annie says, fidgeting with the sleeves of her lab coat. “I can’t believe they got rid of my old lab coat. This one is huge.” She shoves her arms out in front of her. “Can you roll these up?”

Jeff leans into her space and holds her forearm to fold back the thick fabric of the coat. A smile tugs at his lips when he sees Annie’s gaze drop to his mouth. “You look great.” 

Annie makes a face. “You’re just saying that because you want to sleep with me.”

Jeff only grins at her. He finishes folding back the sleeves and smoothes his hands over the shoulders of her lab coat. “Good luck today. Not that you’ll need it. There’s no competition for cracking the cases now that Sandra’s gone.” 

"Mhm." Annie mumbles. Jeff watches as Annie glances at herself one last time in the mirror. She sighs. Despite her best efforts to seem cheery, she still looks shaken at the idea of starting work again. Jeff had taken the day to see her off, but he had to head back to Colorado the next morning to resume his client work. 

Annie turns away from the mirror to meet Jeff's eyes, her lips pressed together tightly. Jeff cups her face, his thumbs smoothing out the frown lines there. He presses a small kiss to the top of her head and the line of her shoulders relaxes as she leans into his touch. 

“It’s always tough to start again,” Jeff says gently. Her face is so close to his, her eyes a bright blue blur. “But you’ve been through much worse. You’ll be incredible.”

Annie smiles softly. “You seem to believe in me more than I believe in myself.”

Jeff grins back. “Indubitably,” he says, before he tips his head down and kisses her soundly.

* * *

Three hours later, at Annie’s work, everything still feels wrong. 

Annie fidgets at her station, shuffling through case files sitting on her desk. Her heart feels tight and constricted in her chest, like a cobra has winded its way around her body and squeezed. Tight.

At home, Annie had given herself a week to recover from the case, before she got too antsy sitting around the house with Troy and Abed. The pair wasn’t exactly the _fussing_ type, but Annie could tell how worried they were about her, every time they let her choose the movie or asked for help making their Epic Adventure scrapbook. 

Annie guesses they have reason to be. She hasn’t felt the same since her charges were dropped, the relief of being set free offset by her dread to return to work. 

Earlier that morning, someone had come over and touched Annie’s shoulder. She flinched and reared back, before she took a deep breath and realized it was only Jane. Jane had said she was glad to have Annie back at work, but the air lingered between them, tense and silent.

 _Well_ , Annie thinks, _it’s hard to go back to being good friends with someone after they accuse you of trying to kill them._

Annie picks up the case she was working on before she left, her notes typed neatly in Times New Roman, size 12, and reads the first line. Instantly, all the breath leaves her body.

She feels dizzy, heat rushing to her face as she eases herself off her feet and slides into one of the stools at her station. She inhales slowly. _Breathe, Annie. You’re in control of this. It’s just a silly reaction, it’s going to take some time to get used to the routine._

The door swings of the lab swings open and she sees Bill burst through the doorway.

“Annie, what are you doing here?”

Annie breathes deeply again, quietly, so Bill can’t tell that she’s cracking under the pressure of her first day back. “I’m tired of being at home,” she says. “My supervisor said I’m clear to come back since all the charges have been dropped, so I decided today’s the best day.”

Bill smiles sympathetically and shakes his head. “No day’s ever the best day to come back here.” 

Annie frowns and tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

“That feeling you’re feeling? I know it. My partner got shot back in Denver and it took months of internal investigation to prove it wasn’t me who did him in.” 

Annie rubs her arm. “So what did you do?”

“When they told me my suspension was over, I quit. I came here.” 

Annie bites her lip. “Why?”

Bill sighs. “I couldn’t face it. All those people that just stood by and let me be accused? People who talked behind my back and called me a partner killer? I couldn’t look at them the same.”

Annie looks down on her feet. She understands what he means. She’s scared half to death that Stefan will walk through the door and lecture her for accusing him of murder. But she hasn’t seen him either. Could she go the rest of her career at the LAPD waiting for that to happen? 

“What do _I_ do?” Annie asks. “Quit?”

“I’m not telling you to do anything,” Bill says. “You can stay here if you truly feel at home. But in case you don’t, I’m offering you a way out. If you want it. I have connections in Denver, where I used to work. They could use some help in their ballistics department.” 

Annie perks up in her chair. “Denver?”

Bill smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “I know that’s where Jeff works. And besides what I said before, they’re all great people.” 

Annie leans forward and grasps Bill’s arm excitedly. “Bill, that would be incredible! Could you put me in contact with them?”

“Sure, Annie. It’d be my pleasure.” 

When Bill leaves the room, and while she still has the courage, Annie marches herself straight to her supervisor’s office and quits. 

And then she buys a plane ticket. 

* * *

Jeff likes Los Angeles well enough, but he’s only in the habit of visiting every once in a while, when he would meet up with the group for a special birthday or another occasion. He would fly down on a Friday and stay until Sunday morning, but then he had to be back in Denver to finish work or to see a client. Otherwise, nothing seemed to be worth flying the three hours from Denver to Los Angeles.

Now, with his girlfriend there, Jeff is so much more torn. 

He knows that Annie’s work is based in Los Angeles, and she just started up again, so he can’t ask her to move all the way to Denver to be with him. It’s too much change and he’s already worried about how edgy she’s been since Sandra was arrested. He knows he doesn’t have to be, because Annie has always been able to take care of herself, but that doesn’t stop him from worrying anyway.

Jeff makes himself comfortable on the sofa in the living room, putting his laptop aside and looking out the window, at the pool. He can see the shallow end from where he’s sitting, the place where he wanted more than anything to kiss Annie, but was too afraid. It’s hard to believe he can do it freely now, with as much frequency as he wants. 

Jeff leans back into the cushions. Annie will be back in an hour or so, and he’s just thinking about texting her when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. 

“Britta.”

Brita’s voice sounds extra loud on the phone. “Why did I have to hear from _Troy_ that Annie’s case got dropped?” 

Jeff grimaces. “What’s wrong with hearing from Troy?” he asks, feigning innocence. 

“That’s not the point.”

“We’ve been busy.” 

“Well, I’d imagine, after hunting down a murderer and nearly getting killed,” Brita says dryly. The bitterness in her tone is not lost on Jeff. He knows that he had promised to call and fill her in on everything that was going on. And then he got busy with work and wrapped up in everything Annie, making up for all the years that should have been. 

“Britta, I meant to call.” Jeff says. “It’s just- things just got so crazy and…”

“And you both forgot I was over in Colorado worrying my ass off,” Britta says flatly. “I get it, whatever. I’m not the first thing on Annie’s mind when she’s kidnapped by a murderer and gets a new boyfriend. But you, Jeff?”

Jeff rakes a hand through his hair. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I know about that too. Idiot.”

Jeff exhales slowly. “Okay,” he says. “I should have told you. I’m sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

He can almost hear Britta rolling her eyes through the phone. “You can do better than that.”

“Fine. I’m sorry, Britta. You’re the best, I’m the worst.” Jeff says. 

“And?”

“And I’m a crappy friend.”

“And?”

“And when I get back to Colorado I’ll fill you in on everything.” Jeff says. Crap. He rubs his eyebrow. That’s not what he meant to say. At all.

“Perfect,” Britta says. “You’re flying back tomorrow, yes? I’m free Saturday morning for brunch, so we can meet up then. Drinks on you.”

“Fine,” Jeff says.

“And tell Annie to text me, will you? We need to compare notes.”

Jeff scoffs. “Absolutely not.”

They talk a while longer about how he’s managing his new caseload and Britta’s new obsession with protein pasta, though it’s the furthest thing from Jeff’s mind right now. Colorado feels like an entire world away, a complete contrast to the incredible bustle of Los Angeles. It’s hard to believe that only a week ago Jeff was running around trying to prove Annie wasn’t a federal criminal. 

A small smile appears on his face. He and Annie have truly been through it all now, destroying and restoring a community college, chasing murderers. 

Now, life with Annie feels almost easy, but he knows tomorrow is the start of a day where it won’t be, where they won’t be able to cross the hall and talk about everything, Annie laying on his chest, Jeff holding her close to him until they fall asleep.

“Anyway, I should get going,” Britta says. Her tone is brisk, and Jeff wonders if he had missed something important. “You’re coming Saturday, right?”

“You got it,” Jeff says. “I’ll see you there.”

* * *

When Annie gets home from work, she’s brimming with nervous energy, dying to tell Jeff about her day and the exciting opportunity that Bill has for her.

But then Jeff has dinner ready, a delicious eggplant pasta, and Troy and Abed are bursting with stories about the new movie that they’re working on, and she can barely get a word in. The meal is delicious paired with a glass of red wine, which makes her drowsy and happy, content to let the hours tick by as she laughs with her friends. 

Despite Annie’s delight about the possibilities to come, a little part of her feels sad about leaving her friends behind. Troy and Abed will be fine without her, but she can’t help but miss them, even while they’re sitting right next to her. 

“What’s wrong?” Abed asks, staring at her. “Why are you making that face?”

“What face?” Annie asks. “I’m not making a face.”

“Which face is it?” Troy asks. “The everything-is-butterflies-and-rainbows face?”

Abed shakes his head.

“Disney eyes?”

Abed shakes his head.

“The it-looks-like-I-ate-a-lemon-but-I’m-actually-secretly-judging-you face?”

Annie gasps. “I do not make that face!”

Jeff smirks at her. “Sure you don’t.”

Annie glares back.

“Look, there it is right now!” Troy says.

Annie rolls her eyes. “Well, Abed, what is it?”

“I don’t know. Your eyes light up, but your mouth stays pressed together like when you cry during The Notebook.” 

“Oh,” Troy says. “That’s her I-love-you-guys face. Or is it the I’m-going-to-miss-you face? I can’t remember. I’ll have to check the book.”

Annie squints at them. “You have a book for my _faces?”_

Abed nods. “You’re very expressive. It helps for writing stage direction.” 

Jeff pushes his chair from the table and scoffs. “That’s not creepy at all.” He stands up and starts to collect their empty plates.

“Anyway, we got away from the point.” Abed says. “Why are you making that face?” 

Annie smiles at him. “I’ll tell you later.” 

And after dinner, she does, in the privacy of their bedroom. They hug her and tell her that they’ll miss having her around, but they’re actually kind of glad because they were thinking of asking their producer to move in with them and he gets tongue tied around pretty girls. 

“I don’t think Hollywood is the best place for him then…” Annie says, biting her lip.

“It’s probably not the best place for you either,” Abed says. Annie almost takes offense, but Abed continues talking. “You probably didn’t think we noticed, but you seemed lost here. Kind of like Lily from How I Met Your Mother when she moves to San Francisco. It’s not a good thing you went through what you did, but it was a catalyst to help you remember who you really are.”

“And who’s that?” Annie scoffs. “Jeff’s love interest?”

“No,” Troy says. “A badass who can survive in any situation. A strong woman who never stops pushing to get what she wants and has the strength to go through anything.” 

Annie smirks. “So basically like She-Hulk.” 

Abed squints at her and tilts his head. “I could see it.”

* * *

Later that night, in the dark, Jeff shifts in bed, careful not to wake Annie from where she is tucked against his torso, her arm outstretched beside her. She nestles closer to him, burying her head into his chest, the warmth of her breath puffing in and out, tickling his skin. 

“Whatime issit?” Annie asks, stirring, her eyes still closed.

“Don’t know,” Jeff murmurs. “Go back to sleep.” He reaches a hand over to the bedside table for his phone and clicks the home button. The light of his phone screen glares bright and piercing into the room. 

Annie groans and bats at his chest. “Mmmh. Jeff. Turn that off, isstoo bright.”

“It’s three-thirty.”

Annie tugs Jeff closer to her in response, burrowing against him with a soft sigh. She’s quiet for a moment and Jeff closes his eyes again, ready to fall back asleep.

“Whuh time’re we leavin’?”

Jeff stills. “We?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Annie says, huffing a laugh into his shoulder. “M’coming with you.”

“Oh,” Jeff says. His heart pounds heavily in his chest and he hopes Annie can’t hear it. He smiles down at the top of her head resting on his shoulder. “You’re coming back to Colorado?”

“Yeah,” Annie says. “Bill offered me a job in Denver.” She slides a hand over his chest, rubbing a small ticklish circle on his skin with a thumb. “Can’t get rid of me.”

Jeff covers her hand with his own. “Bill has the authority to give out jobs in other states now?”

Annie laughs quietly. “Not exactly. I quit though. I can’t work at the LAPD anymore.”

“Annie.” Jeff says. His brain starts spinning. “You _quit_?” 

“I quit,” Annie repeats. “But can we talk about this tomorrow? M’tired.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jeff asks. They need to talk about this, they _do._

“Jeff.”

“Okay, fine,” Jeff says. “But tomorrow I want an explanation.”

He can see Annie’s lips form a small smile in the dark. “You’ll get that and so much more,” Annie says quietly, and the way she says it, hushed in both confession and promise, greatly eases the uncertainty in Jeff’s chest.

* * *

It only takes Annie a few days to readjust back to life in Colorado. Denver is different from Greendale, with its honking and bustle, but it’s too easy to feel like Jeff’s apartment is truly home. The place is extremely posh, (not that she’d expect any less from a man who spends $200 on hair product) and has high-count thread sheets that she’s spent far too many mornings sleeping in on. 

She arranges for more of her belongings to be shipped from Los Angeles (complimentary of Abed and Troy). She spends most of her time in Jeff’s kitchen, prepping for her upcoming interview with the Denver Police Department. Annie can barely believe this is her life now, chatting with her friends over Facetime, watching the Great British Baking Show on Netflix, greeting Jeff with a kiss when he comes home from work. 

Annie masks her smile with a hand. _Jeff._ She still has trouble adjusting to the idea that after all this time, and everything they’ve been through, she and Jeff have finally ended up together. 

Talk about a happy ending. 

Annie and Jeff have had many discussions over the past week, but neither of them had mentioned anything about Annie returning back to her place at Abed and Troy’s. Annie hopes that it will stay that way. She knows she is always welcomed back in Los Angeles, but she loves her new life here, where Jeff and Britta are only a few minutes away. 

It’s interesting, living with Jeff, and getting to know all of his quirks that he was able to hide away during college. On weekdays, Jeff likes to get up before his alarm rings (surprise, surprise) and make coffee before he goes for a run. His breakfast consists of a protein shake and a Dave Mathews playlist, before he jumps in the shower, slips into his suit and heads off to work. At times, if Annie is still in bed, he will come back into the bedroom to give her a lingering kiss or leave her a steaming mug of coffee on the bedside table. If Annie is out and about, then Jeff will send her a stream of text messages, wishing her a good rest of her day or to tell her about a stubborn client. Annie would reply whenever she could, smiling to herself and nearly bumping into people scowling at her on the sidewalk. 

The Denver PD asks her to come in for an interview on Tuesday, and this time, when she enters the building, her body doesn’t feel heavy with dread. Her fingers tingle in anticipation and she smiles to herself when she meets her interviewer. 

It’s a new beginning.

* * *

Having seen how much pressure Annie puts on herself when there are high stakes, Jeff knows that when Annie returns home, she’ll probably be tense. To his surprise, though, Annie’s face is not pinched tightly with worry. Instead, she looks relaxed, still dressed in her navy suit, pouring two glasses of wine barefoot in his kitchen.

Once he can finally get a handle on the way his heart leaps in his chest at the sight of her, Jeff comes up from behind and places his hands on her hips, leans in and gives her a kiss on the cheek. “How’d it go?” he asks.

Annie places the wine bottle on the table and turns around, her eyes alight with excitement. “I got the job,” she says. “They hadn’t even posted the position yet, but they said if Bill vouched for me, then they know I’m good.”

Jeff huffs a laugh. “We owe that man our lives.”

Annie nods. “Literally.” She sighs and looks back up at Jeff. “I love it here. So much.” 

“You mean the apartment?” Jeff grins. “I have good taste, don’t I?”

“Obviously.” Annie rolls her eyes. “But I didn’t just mean the apartment, Jeff. I mean, here, with you.”

“So you’re staying then,” Jeff says. It's not a question.

Annie smiles up at him, more radiant than Jeff has ever seen her.

“I am.”

* * *

A year later, on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, Annie and Jeff take a trip to the border of New York and Canada, to a place where water rushes fast and fervent over a steep cliff. It’s a place where Annie Edson Taylor changed her life so many years earlier, with a reckless decision and a mattress inside a barrel. 

It’s that same place where Jeff gets down on one knee and asks Annie to marry him.

Blinking mist from her eyes, Annie gushes a yes, and behind them, Niagara Falls thunders its applause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me throughout the interminably long wait for the end of this fic! I really hoped you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Your sweet comments and encouragement have meant so much. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a lyric from Gravity by Sara Bareilles. More to come soon! Let me know what you think in the comments.


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